


Bump in the Night

by UnmovingGreatLibrary



Category: Touhou Project
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-08 01:59:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 57,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16420199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnmovingGreatLibrary/pseuds/UnmovingGreatLibrary
Summary: When Kogasa joins Sekibanki for a night of scaring humans, the only thing Sekibanki wants is to get it over with as quickly as possible.Instead, a chance encounter with Kosuzu leaves them on the wrong side of a youkai plot in the heart of the human village. Soon, they're framed for kidnapping, on the run from youkai hunters, and desperately trying to figure out what they've gotten themselves into. It's everything that Sekibanki has ever dreaded. It's even worse when the person she's stuck navigating it with isKogasa.





	1. Chapter 1

Getting ready for a night of scaring humans was a big undertaking, and it was one that Kogasa took very seriously.

Today, for example, she'd read a book of ghost stories. She wasn't sure where she'd gotten it or how old it was. Every horizontal surface of her cottage was covered in clutter—blacksmithing tools, broken household items that she'd saved from the trash around the human village, books, and random objects that she'd picked up for scaring purposes, all arranged around tidy displays of rescued umbrellas. Determining the age of her belongings was more a matter of archaeology than memory.

Wherever the book was from, it had given her some good material to work with. One story was about a servant girl who was murdered by her employer, but then her ghost returned every night to kill off one of his family members until he died from fright. It was a bit gory for Kogasa's tastes, but there were definitely some good spooking techniques in there, if she ever found herself in a mansion. There was another story about a monk who'd been poisoned by a rival, and his spirit had haunted the monastery, killing every exorcist who came, until the place had to be abandoned. That one was less helpful—Kogasa didn't think she'd be able to pass for a monk even if she shaved her head.

The last story, though, was about a thief who'd killed a girl and hidden her body in a well. One by one, the people of the town had come down with mysterious illnesses and died, until finally, the guilt-stricken murderer had confessed. When the survivors went to find the body, they raised the well's bucket, only to find that the rope was now tied around the dead girl's neck like a noose. As the girl's corpse rose from the well, its arms were outstretched like it was preparing for an attack. The robber had instantly died of fright.

Now _that_ was a good ghost story.

With her usual enthusiasm, Kogasa had spent most of the day trying to invent scaring techniques based on the story. She wasn't sure how to tie a noose, but she'd made her best attempt, and hung the resulting loop of rope around her neck. She'd spent most of an hour standing in front of a mirror, practicing corpse-like poses. She'd briefly thought about dumping a bucket of water over her head to get an authentic 'just fished out of a well' look, but it seemed like she'd dry off before she found somebody.

And then, once she was ready, she headed out for a night of scaring.

By the time she left home, the sun had already sunk below Youkai Mountain. Long evening shadows fell across the mist from the river, and even the areas that were well-lit had a deep red-orange tinge to them, like the entire world was huddled around a campfire. It was the perfect spooky atmosphere. It only made her more excited, and by the time she was within sight of the human village, she had to restrain herself from skipping.

She didn't head into the village, though. She circled around it, along the wide, safe paths that the humans mostly stuck to. There were still a few stragglers on the roads, and they gave her as wide a berth as they could. Kogasa tried her best to ignore them, even though her stomach growled at the hints of uneasiness coming off of them. Surprising humans here wasn't a good idea. Close to the village, they were harder to scare. Even if she pulled it off, chances were they'd come back an hour later, angry and with reinforcements.

No, Kogasa had a different destination in mind. Once she was to the far side of the village, she turned and walked up the narrower road that led to the Hakurei shrine.

It was prime territory.

Any human heading toward the shrine at night was going to be uneasy to begin with. Even better, the narrow road weaved and meandered up the hillside, through overgrown brush that shrouded the sky in dark, tangled shadows. The sight made Kogasa a bit anxious, herself. The entire area was one big hiding spot, and every shadow looked like it might hold a monster. Soon, hopefully, at least one would.

“What are you doing?”

The voice was flat and annoyed. Kogasa stopped in her tracks, glancing around. No speaker was immediately visible. “Um. Hello?”

“Hi. You didn't answer my question, though.” The underbrush on the side of the path rustled, then parted.

Sekibanki stepped out.

Kogasa cringed as soon as she caught a glimpse of red hair, and getting a better view of her didn't help matters at all. Sekibanki looked even more annoyed than she sounded. Well, probably. The high collar hid most of her expression, but she was taking great care to concentrate an entire face's worth of scorn into her eyes.

“Oh! Good evening,” Kogasa said, and hopefully added, “I was hoping that maybe I could surprise a few people around here tonight... maybe?”

“Absolutely not.”

“It's a really long road, though! I'm sure I wouldn't get in your way, and...!”

“No.”

“... I could even hide somewhere farther up the hill from you, so you can get first pick!”

“I don't think you understand your position here,” Sekibanki said, in a voice of tired annoyance. She stepped closer and drew her cape in around herself. It hid everything except for her head, giving her roughly the same shape as an ice cream cone where some sick individual had put the ice cream on the wrong end. “This is the scariest road in Gensokyo, and the closest to the human village, too. It would—“ She paused, seeming to notice Kogasa's outfit for the first time. “Why do you have a rope tied around your neck?”

“Oh, this?” Kogasa smiled and lifted the tailing end. “It's a noose! I'm supposed to be the ghost of a girl whose corpse got dumped in a well.”

“You look like you were hanged, and the hangman didn't do a very good job.”

“No, see, it's a really popular ghost story, and—!”

“And why would the ghost of some dead girl have an umbrella?”

“Maybe it was raining when I got murdered?”

“This is exactly what I'm talking about,” Sekibanki said. “There's only room on this road for a few youkai. It's hard enough scaring people without those fairies behind the shrine trying to prank them first, and that's without competition from an... amateur.”

“O-oh, um, well, maybe I could scare just one? I bet that once the first human is scared, the others will be even more—“

“No.”

“—scared, and I've been working on this new routine where I do this really scary 'UUUUUUREEMASHIIIIIYAAAA' and stand up slowly instead of jumping out, and, um, I think it has a lot of potential—“

“I already told you no.”

Kogasa trailed off, as it became apparent that this wasn't going to work. She glanced aside, pouting. Even her umbrella drooped. “I'm... really hungry,” she admitted.

She could feel Sekibanki glaring at her. She didn't look up. Looking Sekibanki in the eye would be too humiliating at this point.

“When was the last time you surprised somebody?” Sekibanki asked.

“About five days ago. … it was a really small one, though. The surprise, I mean. Well, the human too, but—“

“I get it.” Sekibanki still hesitated for a few seconds, glaring out at the horizon like she hoped to find an answer there. Finally, she sighed. “You can stay here.”

“Oh! Thank you! I'll be sure to—“

“ _But_ ,” she continued sharply, cutting Kogasa off. “You'll be hiding in the bushes the whole time. I'll scare people, and you can feed off of the surprise. I don't want to hear a peep out of you. Do you understand?”

“Oh... maybe I can surprise them a little after you're done with them?”

“When I'm done with them—” Sekibanki drew herself up to her full height. Somehow, even with the collar, Kogasa could tell that she was smirking. “—they will never be surprised again.”

“You're _killing_ them?!”

“What? No. I'm just surprising them so much that lesser surprises will—never mind.” Sekibanki gestured toward the underbrush. “Just hide and get ready. If a human comes along while we're having this pointless conversation, we'll both feel like idiots.”

“Right…! Thank you so much!”

Kogasa stepped off of the path and climbed up the bank. As usual, it was pretty hard to find a suitable hiding spot. Blue wasn't exactly the stealthiest color, and even on a day with clear skies, closing her umbrella felt like a betrayal of everything that she stood for. She settled for crouching behind an especially dense patch of briars, hoping that any human who got close enough to see her would have already walked into Sekibanki's trap.

From her position, she could only just barely see Sekibanki, but she still made out some preparations. Sekibanki created half a dozen copies of her head, and they floated off into the darkness, taking up positions along the path.

There weren't exactly a lot of humans around, even on this, one of the few roads that they had reason to occasionally travel at night. Most of an hour passed. Kogasa's stomach started gnawing at her, urging her to go surprise _somebody_. Her legs kept falling asleep no matter what position she waited in. She still waited.

Her first hint that somebody was coming came from Sekibanki. Youkai magic flowed out from her, twisting the forest into more sinister appearances. A thick fog rose from the ground, coiling through the air like tentacles. Whispers drifted between the trees.

Kogasa felt the human approaching before she'd even heard their footsteps. They were already uneasy from being out at night, making them hard to miss. Jumpy and anxious, in the kind of mood where even a snapped twig or glimpsed movement in the corner of their eye might make them shriek.

It was a wonderful taste. It only whet her appetite, promising more without doing a thing to sate it. Her stomach growled again, and her fingers fussed indecisively against the handle of her umbrella. She _had_ agreed to wait and lay low, but ignoring a human in that state went against her every instinct as a youkai, let alone when she hadn't surprised anybody in days.

She could hear the human's footsteps now. Along with them, Sekibanki's whispers grew more distinct. Her heads flew through the underbrush, repositioning themselves along the path, whispering the whole time: _”My head. My head.”_ The footsteps grew faster, the fear swelled up in the human's heart, and…

“URAMESHIYAAAA!”

Kogasa sprang out from the underbrush, thrusting her umbrella into the air.

The human skidded to a stop, yelping in surprised. He was a middle-aged man, and he'd barely managed to stop before he stumbled back, brandishing his walking stick like a weapon. “S-stay back…!” he whimpered.

Kogasa had moved so quickly and naturally that she hadn't even considered what to do next. Worse, she still couldn't think of much. The man's reaction was wonderful. It wasn't the nicest she'd ever gotten, but it was the first solid, filling response she'd had in weeks. Already, she could feel new life flowing into her.

Farther down the path, she could see Sekibanki, frozen halfway through rising out of a crouch. Sekibanki was glaring at her. Sekibanki was very good at glaring. She did not look like she was happy.

Right now, though, the human in front of her was a bigger issue.

“Oh, I'm not going to hurt you! I just wanted to surprise you! See, that's why I wore the noose!” Kogasa raised the rope for demonstration. “I'm supposed to look like a ghost—oh, but not the evil kind of ghost! Just the scary kind!”

The man took another step back, giving his cane a threatening shake.

“Um,” Kogasa continued. “That's all I needed, really! You can keep going on your walk if you w—“

“HUMAN!” A voice boomed from behind her. “BEGONE!”

Three disembodied heads burst out from the underbrush. Mouths open, eyes streaming red energy, they flew overhead. The man gasped in shock and turned, sprinting toward the village. Within seconds, his footsteps had faded away into the night.

Kogasa was so wrapped up in watching him go that she didn't notice Sekibanki approaching. “What,” Sekibanki asked sharply, “was _that_?”

“O-oh! Sorry! It's just... being that close to a human, it was really hard to hold back. I think it turned out really nice, though, right? He was really surprised _and_ scared! That's the best of both worlds, I think!”

“No it isn't. That was nothing.” Sekibanki gestured back toward the brush. “Hide. If you mess up another one, we're settling it with a duel the next time we meet.”

“Oh. Um.” Kogasa squirmed guiltily in place. “I'm sorry...”

“Just don't do it again.”

With a quick nod. Kogasa hurried back into the underbrush.

They waited.

* * *

Kosuzu ran.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been running. She wasn't sure what time it was, or when she'd started. Everything had happened too fast for her to put much thought into it. She hadn't hesitated for long enough to do anything but grab a few items, put her boots on, and sprint out the door.

Now, she was deep into the woods, and the run was taking its toll on her. Her legs burned from exertion, her lungs ached for air, her glasses were fogged up, and the adrenaline high that had carried her this far was starting to fade. Worse, she was starting to realize just what a bad decision this was. She was pretty far from the village, with nothing but its lights visible behind her. She wouldn't have been able to see the Hakurei Shrine yet even if it were daytime. Which it decidedly wasn't.

She came to a stop and bent over, wheezing for air. While she was at it, she checked on her parcel. There, wrapped in a tablecloth, was everything that she'd thought to bring on this expedition—a table knife, an ink-smeared woodblock printing plate, and an omamori for Prosperity in Business that she'd taken from the shop's front door on her way out. The omamori wasn't much, but it was supposed to have a blessing on it, so she hoped it would do _something_ to ward off youkai. It just needed to keep her in one piece until she could get to Reimu, and everything would work out. Things always did, once Reimu got involved.

Right, Reimu! This was the forest leading to the shrine, so it should be pretty safe, she decided. She just needed to push through this last kilometer or two. If she was lucky, maybe Reimu would even let her stay at the shrine until this whole business was resolved. Either way, the closer she got to the shrine, the safer she was. The only way to go was forward.

With her little heart filling with courage, Kosuzu took a deep breath to steady herself, then set off down the path.

The moon was bright tonight. She felt like she should have been grateful for the illumination, but in some ways, it only made things worse. It cast deep shadows, and she kept seeing movement in the corner of her eye.

A twig snapped in the woods to her right. Kosuzu froze, silent, and peered into the darkness. She uneasily convinced herself to move on.

She'd barely taken a full step before another, louder snap came from the forest.

“Hello...?” Kosuzu whispered into the darkness.

In response, something deep in the forest laughed—unsteadily, childishly, ethereally.

Kosuzu's heart felt like it was going to leap out of her chest. It was fairies, she tried to tell herself. Probably just fairies playing in the woods. If she actually saw them, the worst they could do was prank her.

She still stayed rooted to the spot for a good ten seconds before she moved again. When she did, she picked up her pace a bit more, with the parcel clasped tightly to her chest.

She wasn't outrunning whatever was after her, though. Thick fog rose from the ground, glowing a ghostly white in the moonlight. The light itself seemed wrong now, falling through the trees in just the right way to illuminate the entire world in jagged shards, like a broken mirror.

Kosuzu caught a glimpse of movement from the forest. This time, she couldn't convince herself she'd imagined it. She skidded to a stop and peered into the darkness. “I-I'm just going to the Hakurei shrine!” she said. “It's really important, s-so, um, Miss Reimu will probably be angry if you stop me!”

Something moved in the shadows again. Kosuzu had just enough time to realize that it was moving _toward_ her before the object came into view.

Two red points of light, like dying embers, flared up in the darkness. As they approached, she saw that they were eyes. The thing was a head. Only a head. _Emphatically_ just a head, since the neck was oozing blood in great, heavy gouts. The ghastly red eyes stared straight into her soul. It moaned, “Yoooouuuur heeeeeaaaad.”

Kosuzu shrieked. Adrenaline surged through her veins. She leapt into motion and sprinted down the path. The pounding of her boots was impossibly loud in the silent night, but she could still hear the voice behind her. There were multiple now, a chorus, all the horrors in the world cooing and groaning and shrieking a single phrase: “Your heeeeead!”

The fog grew thicker, like a solid barrier at waist level. She almost tripped over an unseen rock, but didn't let it slow her down. Now, she could see movement on both sides of the road, dotted by the red lights of those glowing eyes. Occasionally, one of the heads would drift just close enough to catch the moonlight, letting her see it leering down at her as it moaned, “Your heeeeeeaaad!”

She rounded a corner. Now, the fog was so thick that she could barely see a few meters in front of her. She kept going, heart pounding in her ears and her lungs burning for air. Sheer mortal panic overrode both of those. She had to almost be within sight of the shrine, and as soon as she was close, she could shout for Reimu, and—

Kosuzu reached the end of the fog and sprinted into the open.

This section of the path was bathed in moonlight. It was easy to see the heads hovering to either side. They stared down at her, eyes glowing, with a grotesque expression on every face. They all chattered over each other, a discordant chorus, almost deafening: “Your head! _Your head_. Your heaaaad!”

Kosuzu ducked down and squeezed the parcel against her chest, barreling forward as fast as she could go.

Something rose from the shadows farther down the road, blocking the path.

She tried to skid to a stop, but her legs were weak from running for so long, and the ground was uneven. She tripped and was launched sprawling forward. Her parcel flew from her arms, tumbling down the path. Still, the heads continued moaning, “Your heaaad!”

She was already scrambling to her feet when the thing on the road moved closer, and she got a good look at it. It was a person. Or, well, most of one, at least. In the darkness, it was hard to make out any details but a billowing cape, but one thing was easy to see—their silhouette ended at the collar. There was no head on their shoulders.

“Your head!” the heads in the darkness all shrieked in unison.

The body lunged forward, stepping over Kosuzu's tablecloth-wrapped parcel, and thrust an accusing finger at her. From somewhere in the darkness, its voice boomed. “PERHAPS I SHALL ADD IT TO MY COLLECTION!”

Kosuzu squealed, a shriek of terror that threatened to grind her vocal cords to mush. She didn't even remember moving. One second, she was sprawled on the ground. The next, she was scrambling down the pathway, head down and tears streaming from her eyes. She didn't dare to look back until she was in the outskirts of the village.

* * *

“You see,” Sekibanki said, as she settled her head back onto her neck. “Craftsmanship is important. Modern humans aren't going to be scared by something as simple as jumping out of the bushes and shouting, 'boo.'”

“It was really impressive!” Kogasa said, then hesitated, frowning in the direction of the retreating girl. “Don't you think it was a little mean, though...?”

Sekibanki shot her a withering expression. “We're youkai. If the humans knew that I lived in their village, they'd exterminate me without a second thought. This is only fair.”

“Well, maybe... but maybe if you were nicer when you scared them, they'd be nicer to you, too!”

Sekibanki grunted in response. She did not sound convinced.

Only now did Kogasa notice something laying on the ground. She crouched down to take a look at it, her umbrella slung back over a shoulder. It was a cloth. Peeking out from inside its folds were a knife, a little cloth envelope, and a wooden rectangle, covered in carvings. “Oh... are these yours?”

“No.”

“Oh! Oh no!” Kogasa scooped up the whole bundle and sprang to her feet.

“Miss!” she shouted down the pathway. “Miss, you dropped your book!”

“Not so loud!” Sekibanki hissed. “We're barely half a kilometer from the shrine! If the shrine maiden hears us, there will be hell to pay.”

“She forgot her things, though...”

“Yes, well. I don't think she's going to be coming back.” Sekibanki sounded very proud of this fact.

“Oh no! But they must have been really important to her, right?” Kogasa raised the bundle to display its contents, like she was showing off a cute puppy. “Don't you think she would have left them home otherwise?”

“Even if you catch up to her, I don't think she's going to listen to a youkai. Not tonight. I'd drop it if I were you.”

“Oh! You mean like, drop her things here, so they're waiting for her if she comes back?”

“... no, drop the subject. Humans and youkai are enemies. We barely manage to get along, so there's no reason to give her things back. If they matter that much, she'll buy new ones.”

That sounded almost as bad to Kogasa as just leaving the items here to rot, but she didn't think Sekibanki would understand. Nobody ever did. Instead, she wrapped the bundle back up and tied the ends. “Well... if you're sure.”

“I am. And I think one scare is enough for me tonight, so I'm going home.” Sekibanki turned to leave, but a few steps down the path, she hesitated and looked back over her shoulder. “I wouldn't mind giving you a few pointers sometime. But only if you're willing to dedicate yourself to improving.”

“You would...” Happiness bubbled up in Kogasa's heart. She took a few hurried steps toward Sekibanki, beaming. “A-ah, of course! I'd love to!”

Sekibanki gave a single curt nod of acknowledgment and continued on her way. Kogasa hummed to herself as she prepared for her own trip home. Tonight, she was almost _certain_ that she'd made a new friend. Any night where that happened could be much worse.


	2. Chapter 2

Sekibanki's cottage was on the outskirts of the human village. She kept it in a carefully-maintained state of apparent disuse—the curtains were always drawn, the lawn was always slightly overgrown, and the path to her front door was narrow and unnecessarily winding. When all else failed, the willows along the road served to mostly hide it from sight.

Living among humans required walking a delicate line. It was all about balance, she'd decided. If you looked too creepy, sometimes that was all the evidence people needed to decide that you were a youkai. It never ended well. She'd lost a home that way before she came to Gensokyo. Looking too much like a normal human was a bad idea too, though. If you were friendly and approachable, sooner or later somebody would consider themselves close enough to drop by your house unannounced, or ask the wrong kind of question in a friendly conversation. All it took was one slip of the tongue, and the whole thing would collapse. She'd lost a home to _that_ , too.

There was just no winning with humans.

These days, she tried for the middle ground. She lived among humans, but not _with_ them. She went into the village to buy groceries, but cut off any attempts at friendly chatter with a disinterested stare. She attended festivals, and participated just enough for people to remember that she was there. She tried to discourage people from coming by her house, but not so forcefully that they suspected she was hiding anything.

Over the years, she'd gotten pretty good at it. Nobody ever visited Sekibanki's house.

And yet, this morning, somebody was knocking on her door.

“Sekibanki! Sekibanki! Oh, I hope you're awake. It's really important!”

It was Kogasa's voice, and she sounded just as urgent as her door-rattling knocking would suggest. 

Sekibanki rolled over in bed and glared at the door, but stayed silent. Kogasa didn't give up. “Sekibanki, please...!”

Sekibanki caved in. “What do you _want_?”

“Oh, good, you're awake! … can I please come in?”

“Why?”

“It's really important...!”

Sekibanki muttered under her breath and shot the door a death glare, but it was probably too late to say no. With a resigned sigh, she pushed herself up from the bed... then paused.

There were clothes on the floor. Her kitchen counter was covered in plates, bowls, and cooking utensils—clean, but she'd never quite gotten around to putting them away. There were three chairs at her dining table, but two of them were holding crates of vegetables. Most of the table was covered in drying herbs. Half of her paintings and books were various degrees of scorched—a testament to the fate of her previous house. She'd been meaning to replace them, but a century or so wasn't _that_ long for a youkai, and Gensokyo didn't have much variety to choose from...

Sekibanki hadn't had a visitor in her cottage since... well, since she'd had this cottage. Only now, faced with one, did she realize just how unprepared she was.

“… I'll need a moment,” she added.

Quickly, Sekibanki duplicated her head half a dozen times and got to work. Five heads hovered back and forth, dragging clothes toward the hamper with their teeth, carefully dropping silverware into drawers, scooting bundles of herbs aside to clear room at the table. One head stayed with her body, overseeing it through the process of getting dressed.

Sekibanki recognized the _click_ of the doorknob just before the door swung open. The sound gave her just enough forewarning to snatch her cloak off the floor and cover herself. “What do you think you're doing?!”

Kogasa froze in the doorway. “O-oh, um...!”

All throughout the cottage, Sekibanki's heads stopped mid-task. One hovered in the air barely a meter from Kogasa, a discarded belt hanging from its mouth. Kogasa looked to it sheepishly. “I heard a lot of noise in here! I thought you might have fallen down or something.”

With a gesture backward, she added, “The door was unlocked.”

Sekibanki muttered under her breath and stepped aside, opening her wardrobe's door to give her some privacy while she finished dressing. Throughout the house, her heads resumed their tasks. No reason to turn back now.

“What do you need?” she asked, as she tried to pull her skirt on without stepping into the open.

“Oh, um. It's something that girl dropped last night...” Kogasa held up a smooth rectangle of wood, the size of a dinner plate. “I think it's kind of important.”

“The things that human dropped? You're still worked up about those?”

“Well, yes, but...! This one's special!” Kogasa hurried over to one of the nearby heads and thrust it forward, shoving it right into Sekibanki's face. “Here, look!”

Sekibanki's attention drifted from head to head until she found the particular one that Kogasa had accosted. She backed up and squinted at the wooden plate. The side that she'd seen before was smooth. The side Kogasa was showing her now, though, was different. Sections of it had been carved away in intricate patterns. The remaining raised areas were stained black with ink. After a few seconds of squinting, Sekibanki realized that some of the carvings were written characters, flipped backward.

There were half a dozen lines of text on the thing, and she wasn't about to read all of that backward. “So? It's some kind of... stamp?”

“Not just a stamp! I think it's a woodblock! Like, for printing! Um, I don't have any ink, so I can't really see what it looks like, but...” Kogasa traced her fingers along one line. “This says 'Child of Miare,' right? That's somebody really important to humans, isn't it?”

“It does look like it says that,” Sekibanki conceded. Her body was fully dressed now. She stepped out from behind the wardrobe and pulled her head back on, then stepped over and gently pushed aside the one that Kogasa had been talking to. “And she's important to humans, I guess.”

“Right? So, we have to give it back! I bet it's really important to that girl from last night!”

“... 'we'? Why 'we'? If you want to take it back, you can take it back yourself.”

“Well, right, but... I don't know where she lives!”

“That was the shopkeeper from Suzunaan. It's near the edge of the village, along the river.”

“I don't know the human village that well...”

“I can tell you how to get there.”

“But... what if I try to talk to her, and she's still mad about last night?”

“I don't care. You're a youkai, you can handle it.”

“But—!”

“Most of the village still thinks I'm a normal human. I can't just walk up to her and say, “Excuse me, miss, but I'm the youkai that scared you last night, and I think you dropped your things.””

“But didn't she see you?”

“You'd be surprised how few humans recognize you when you're decapitated.”

“Really?”

“Humans aren't very bright.”

“Oh. Um.” Kogasa looked down, fidgeting with her umbrella, then perked up with an excited little hop. Sekibanki winced as the umbrella nearly smacked into a hanging plant. “Then! Then we can just say it was me!”

“That you're the one who scared her?”

“Right! That way we won't mess up your cover, right?”

Every instinct that Sekibanki had told her to say no. Setting aside the fact that she didn't care about the plate, giving credit for her hard work to anybody else, let alone Kogasa, grated on her. She had to admit, though, it wasn't a bad idea. “… I suppose I could say that you came to me for help.”

“Great!”

“But after this, I'm done. Even doing this much is risking my cover, and I don't really care whether some girl gets her woodblock back or not.”

“Right!” Kogasa stepped forward, giving an enthusiastic, but serious, nod. “I really appreciate it! I'll owe you a favor after this!”

It wasn't much of a promise. Sekibanki couldn't think of much that she'd ever need from Kogasa. She was probably even less useful than Sekibanki's actual umbrella, because the normal umbrella wouldn't talk the whole time that you used it. But, it was good enough for now. “Fair enough,” she said. “Let's get this over with.”

* * *

“You lost the printing block,” Akyuu repeated dryly, leaning forward over the desk.

“Right! It went missing somewhere,” Kosuzu said.

“Where was it when you last saw it?”

“It was... on the desk.”

Akyuu looked down. “This desk?”

“On that corner over there,” Kosuzu added helpfully, pointing to the far corner.

Akyuu shifted the books on the desk around. Not surprisingly, the woodblock wasn't hidden beneath any of them. “Are you sure you can't think of how it might have gone missing? Anything... out of the ordinary you might have been doing?”

Kosuzu flinched, but tried her best to look innocent. “A-ah, nope! I've kept a pretty normal schedule the past few days. You know what? Maybe it, er, ended up on the shelves somehow! I'll look around for it again!”

Akyuu studied her face, then gave a curt nod. “Please do so.”

Kosuzu hurried over to the shelf of recent returns, pretending to look through them while she desperately considered what to do. Behind her, Akyuu took a seat at her customary table in the corner. Kosuzu could still feel her eyes on her back.

Before she could make much progress in her imaginary search, footsteps came in the front door. As tense as Kosuzu was, the sound made her jolt and take a step back. Her would-be customer paused, looking slightly bewildered by this greeting.

“Excuse me,” Sekibanki said. “Is the store open today? There was a sign out front, but the door was open.”

“Oh, we're closed to focus on a print order, but... that's actually on hold for now. Can I help you with something?”

“I think it's more like me helping you.” Sekibanki glanced back toward the door, then sighed and reached through the curtains. She tugged a reluctant-looking Kogasa into the shop, after a moment of finessing her umbrella half through the doorway. “This girl has something that belongs to you.”

Kosuzu's sense of danger had never been well-honed, by anybody's standards. So, it took her a few seconds to piece together what she was seeing: A girl in weird clothes, with mismatched eyes, and an umbrella with a giant tongue lolling off of the side. There was a youkai in her shop.

Her heart froze up, and she glanced uneasily to Akyuu. Akyuu was studying the intruders with annoyed-looking disinterest. Kosuzu had, it turned out, served quite a few youkai over the years. This wasn't even the first _obvious_ youkai customer she'd had. But, it was unusual enough to make her worried, especially considering everything else that was happening. Worried enough that it took her a few seconds to work up a response.

“A-ah, something that belongs to me...?” Kosuzu stepped over to the front desk, feeling like she was in a dream.

“Right.” Sekibanki seemed to have no intention to explain herself further. She gave Kogasa an insistent push toward Kosuzu.

“We, um!” Kogasa blurted, then caught herself. “I mean, I! I scared you last night. On the path to the shrine?”

Kogasa stepped forward, fumbling with a parcel by her side. Kosuzu immediately recognized it as the sheet she'd used the night before. Her fears were confirmed when Kogasa slid it forward onto the desk, opening it up to reveal the woodblock. “You dropped this!”

“O-oh! Did I…?” Kosuzu grabbed the block and held it up for inspection, if only because she desperately needed to buy some time to think.

What she _really_ wanted was to beg for help, but with Akyuu sitting barely five meters away, she didn't dare. Akyuu sat leaning across the table, frowning thoughtfully at the two visitors, with the fingers of one hand drumming impatiently on the table. Kosuzu couldn't remember ever seeing Akyuu not sitting straight upright, unless she was sick. And there was her behavior, too. Akyuu had always been a little condescending sometimes, but that was only natural for a noble-born girl with irreplaceable powers. More recently, though, she'd been... kind of a jerk.

Something was very wrong with Akyuu, and that was only the start of her problems. She should have been happy to get the woodblock back, but now that it was in front of her, her heart was flip-flopping between elation and despair. Sure, it meant that she hadn't lost an irreplaceable carving that had taken some artisan days to make. It also meant that she needed to explain—

“That belongs to me,” Akyuu said, rising from her seat. “Why do you have it?”

—that. Kosuzu peeked up from the wood block to gauge Akyuu's mood. She did not look pleased.

“A-ah, well...” Kosuzu stammered.

“Oh, I didn't steal it or anything!” Kogasa said. “It's just like I said! I scared her, and she dropped it! And since I'm bringing it back now, it's okay, right...?”

“Where did you scare her?” Akyuu asked.

“The road to the Hakurei shrine,” Kogasa answered, helpfully. “Just last night.”

Akyuu's gaze moved from Kogasa to Kosuzu.

Kosuzu flinched back it and glanced aside, doing her best not to look too guilty. “A-ah, right! I was taking a walk.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“I had a nightmare.”

“So you went to the Hakurei shrine?”

“It was a _really bad_ nightmare.”

“I thought you said you hadn't done anything out of the ordinary the past few days?”

“A-ah, um, ehe!” Kosuzu forced an anxious laugh. “I guess my memory just can't compete with the Child of Miare, huh?”

Akyuu wasn't immediately placated. She leaned in, scrutinizing Kosuzu's face. Then, she snatched the woodblock up. “I suppose the important thing is that it's back now.”

“Oh, good!” Kogasa said. Judging by her smile, she hadn't detected anything unusual about this exchange. “I could tell that it was really important to somebody!”

“Important...? How?”

“Oh! Well, a lot of care obviously went into making it. Oh, and it's really nice wood, too! I can tell you'd really be sad if something like this was—“

Sekibanki cleared her throat, rather pointedly. “We should probably be going,” she announced. “People will get worried if a youkai stays here too long.”

“Oh, right...” Kogasa said. “I hope your printing and stuff comes out okay, though!”

“Um, thanks...” Kosuzu said.

Kogasa took a step toward the door, and Kosuzu wracked her mind for a Plan B. With the way Akyuu was acting, the thought of being left alone with her wasn't a comfortable one. If anything, she felt like things were even more tense than they'd been before the two had entered. Even if one of them was a youkai, they were the only people she'd seen in days that might have any chance of helping her. If she let them walk out that door...

“Ah, one second...!” Kosuzu blurted out. All three pairs of eyes turned toward her. She realized, a moment too late, that she probably should have decided on what to say before she spoke up.

Slowly, she pieced together a sentence. “I should... give you something! As thanks for bringing it back!”

“Oh, that really won't be necessary!” Kogasa said, with a sunny smile. “I'm just happy to help!”

“No, I insist! Oh! Do you want to borrow a book? Any topic you want, free of charge! It's a present!”

“A book...?” Kogasa glanced uncertainly to Sekibanki, then back to Kosuzu. “Oh! Do you have any books about umbrellas?”

By force of habit, Kosuzu looked to Akyuu, whose superhuman memory made her the closest thing to a card catalog around Suzunaan. Akyuu only gave her a blank stare back. Kosuzu was left to her own devices. “I don't think so...”

“Oh. Um... Oh! Ghost stories! Do you have any scary books?”

“Ah! Sure, we have some of those. Do you have any preferences?”

“New ones! The kind of things modern humans are scared of.”

“Sure, let me see what I can do.”

Kosuzu hurried into the shelves, thoughts racing in her head to plan out her next move. Finding a book that matched the criteria was easy—Suzunaan had plenty of books on youkai, and there were even a few from the outside world. Youma books definitely counted, but even in circumstances like this, she wasn't going to give away one of those. She settled on the most modern-looking book she could find, with a colorful, glossy cover. The cover read 101 Spooky Stories to Chill Your Bones. She'd never read it, and it really didn't look that interesting by the standards of outside world books. But, it would do for now.

“How's this?” she asked, holding it up.

“'A Hundred and One Spooky St—' Oh! That's perfect!” Kogasa said.

“Great! I'll just need to, um, mark it out of our inventory first.”

Kosuzu hurried past Kogasa into the shop's back room. Here, at least, she could have a few seconds without Akyuu watching her every move. It was long enough to grab a pen, jot a quick note on a slip of paper, and slide it into the book. After fussing over it and making absolutely certain that it wasn't visible, she headed back out and offered the book over.

“Here you go. You should, um...” She glanced uncertainly back at Sekibanki. Weird or no, she was obviously a human, and that was a much safer bet than some youkai she'd never met before. “You should share it with your friend, too! Since you, um, both brought the block back and all!”

“Oh! Right! I'll definitely share it!”

After a few more pleasantries, the two left. Kosuzu was alone with Akyuu once more.

“That was very thoughtful of them,” Akyuu said, rising from her seat. She stepped closer. “Why don't you tell me all about your dream while you finish my printing job?”

* * *

“I've never gotten a gift from a human before!” Kogasa exclaimed, as soon as they were away from the shop. She spun around and thrust it into the air, beaming up at it.

“I'm happy for you,” Sekibanki said. She did not sound happy.

“And a scary story book, too! I bet this will help a lot.”

“Mmh.”

“Oh! She said I was supposed to share it with you, though. Do you want to read it first?”

“I'll pass.”

“It looks like a really good book, though! Look!” Kogasa hurried to catch up with Sekibanki, and held it up for demonstration. She'd opened it to the index page. “There's a story in here about rokurokubi!”

Sekibanki glanced over. “And what does it say about us?”

“Oh, hmm...” Kogasa flipped from the index to the story, then skimmed through it. “A guy married a woman... and then a bunch of servants got sick and died, and... oh! Um.” She paused. “His wife was a rokurokubi and drinking their blood, I guess? I didn't knew you drink blood!”

“I _don't_. This is exactly why I'm not interested. I don't need to read a bunch of stories about how I'm untrustworthy and need to be exterminated.”

“Oh... doesn't it feel nice, though? Knowing that humans are scared of you?”

“It's just annoying. If I want humans scared, I can scare them myself.”

“I guess that's true.” Kogasa's good mood was too resilient to be damaged by such an offhand dismissal. Humming to herself, she flipped through the pages. The book was strange, in some ways. The text was printed with a neat precision that she'd never seen before, like it had been made by an accomplished craftsman, but she couldn't feel any real spirit in it. Whoever had made such a crisp and perfect-looking book hadn't cared about it that much. Weird. There were stories about bakeneko, hungry ghosts, poltergeists, witches, walking corpses...

A paper dropped out and landed on the ground. Curiously, Kogasa crouched down and picked it up.

 _PLEASE HELP_ , it said, above a fold. She opened it, and inside it continued, _Not safe to talk. I think something really bad is happening. Please ask Reimu to meet me behind the shop at 8 PM tonight. PLEASE._

“Um, Sekibanki?”

“What?” Sekibanki replied. She'd sped up a little while Kogasa was reading, putting some more distance between them.

“I think you need to see this...!”

Kogasa hurried over and offered the paper up. Sekibanki read it with disinterested glance. Her brow furrowed as she progressed. “This was in the book?”

“Right...”

“Well. It's probably nothing.” Sekibanki folded the paper closed and handed it back. “Humans around that age like to exaggerate things. If she says 'something really bad is happening,' it probably means something pointless, like her best friend hasn't talked to her in three days.”

“But why would she need a shrine maiden for that...?”

“I don't know. But do you think the shrine maiden is going to listen if a youkai turns up on her front step to ask for help?”

Kogasa thought back to the one previous time she'd asked Reimu for help. She shuddered. “A-ah, she _is_ kind of scary sometimes...”

“Well, then there's nothing we can do about it, is there?”

“I guess not...” Kogasa glanced back down to the letter, squirming in place indecisively. “But she said 'please' three times...!”

Sekibanki sighed. “Do what you want, but I'm not getting involved. Nothing good ever comes out of trying to help humans.”

“But...”

“I'm going home. If you want my advice, don't bother. Humans' gratitude doesn't last very long.”

Kogasa gave a glum nod. “Alright... I'll see you later, then?”

“... maybe,” Sekibanki said. She turned and continued toward her house. Kogasa stayed rooted to the spot, trying to make up her mind, until she was out of sight.


	3. Chapter 3

_PLEASE HELP. Not safe to talk. I think something really bad is happening. Please ask Reimu to meet me behind the shop at 8 PM tonight. PLEASE._

Kogasa turned the letter over once she'd reviewed the contents. Just like the previous six times she'd checked, there wasn't anything more to it.

The human village went to bed early. The sun had set barely twenty minutes ago, and already, most of people were hurrying home. The distant sounds of street merchants, playing children, and gossiping housewives had died down, replaced with the clatter of carts and a quieter, more subdued kind of conversation. Most youkai wouldn't attack a human in the village unless they had a death wish. Even so, the villagers didn't seem inclined to take their chances.

The area behind Suzunaan was an uncomfortable spot to linger, too. It was one of those liminal spaces that straddled the boundary between public and private—a little grassy lot, hemmed in by the back of a row of shops on one side and a line of trees on the other. Most of the shops used it as a storage area, and stacks of crates, rolls of cloth, and piles of firewood lined their rear walls. A road ran alongside it, though, and anybody who walked by would be able to plainly see Kogasa standing there, a lone youkai loitering in the village.

She tried her best to look inconspicuous. As a purple umbrella carried by a girl in sky blue clothes, her best wasn't very good.

Kogasa didn't have a watch, so she wasn't sure about the time, but she'd been waiting for a while when the back door of Suzunaan eased open and Kosuzu's face poked out. “Oh, good!” she said. “I was worried you wouldn't come.”

“It sounded really important!” Kogasa said.

“It is!” Kosuzu took a step out and looked around the area. “... um, did you bring Reimu?”

“Oh.” Kogasa glanced back over the empty lot, like she'd misplaced a shrine maiden somewhere and hoped to find her again. “I really would have liked to! But she... isn't very nice when youkai ask her for help. I didn't think it would turn out very well.”

Seeing Kosuzu's expression droop, she quickly added, “I want to help you, though! I wouldn't be much of an umbrella if I didn't help humans, right?”

“Er.” Kosuzu didn't seem particularly convinced by this logic. She took an uneasy step backward, raising her hands apologetically. “A-ah, I'm not sure if this is the kind of thing a youkai can help me with...”

“No, it's okay!” Kogasa took a frantic step forward. “I don't eat people! I only surprise them! Well, um, I'm not very good at surprising them, but... a-anyway! I want to help!”

Kosuzu was still obviously unconvinced. She weighed her options before capitulating with a sigh and shutting the door behind her. “It's about my friend Akyuu... the one you met in the shop earlier.”

“Oh! The Child of Miare, right?”

“Right! Um... she's been acting pretty weird lately. It's kind of hard to explain it. She's being kind of mean, and I get a really creepy feeling from her! And... I tried to go to the shrine to tell Reimu before, but I think I saw some people following me through the village, and when I got close to the gate, this guy stepped in front of me and told me to go home!”

Kogasa nodded uncertainly. A friend was acting weird, and she had some really vague suspicions about strangers. This was starting to sound like exactly what Sekibanki had warned her it would be. “Um, maybe they were trying to keep you safe? You're pretty young, right?”

“I'm almost seventeen!” Kosuzu said, sounding a little defensive. “It didn't feel like that, though! It was kind of... threatening.”

“Oh...”

“But, um, the other night, I finally got really suspicious and followed her when she left the shop. And she met with this woman in a hood, and when they realized somebody was watching them, they came toward me, so, um, I ran home and got some things and started running to the shrine, and... that's when you scared me, I guess. But it sounds pretty weird, right?”

“That does sound kind of weird...” Kogasa agreed.

“And that woodblock you brought back this morning! It's for printing posters. Akyuu put in a really big order for them, and even provided her own block and everything. Oh, um, here.”

Kosuzu patted a few pockets before fishing a folded paper out of one and offering it over. Kogasa took the thing very cautiously. As dramatic as the girl was being about the whole thing, she really didn't know what to expect—it could be something completely mundane, or it could be some kind of youma poster that would shatter her sanity.

If the poster was shattering her sanity, it was doing it in a very roundabout way. It was covered in cheerful, elaborate filigree, drawing attention to the tidy lines of text printed on it. A few fragments caught Kogasa's eyes as she skimmed over the contents. ' _first ever Summit for a Peaceful Gensokyo_ '… ' _mutual understanding between humans and youkai_ '… ' _one hundred humans and one hundred youkai_ '...

“Oh, this is pretty interesting, but I'm not sure if it's evil?” Kogasa said.

“It's kind of strange, though! Akyuu always told me that humans and youkai are supposed to be enemies! The poster sounds like she's trying to make people like youkai, doesn't it? … Akyuu's still acting weird and my dad's out on business tonight, so I really don't feel safe alone, and—“

“Are you really so worried that you'd go to a youkai for help, Kosuzu?”

The voice came from behind Kosuzu. There, standing in the shadows along the back of the wall, was Akyuu.

The really weird thing was that Kogasa had been facing that direction the whole time, and hadn't noticed her earlier. There had been nothing but a few odds and ends propped against the wall. Kogasa felt like she would have noticed somebody walking up, and in her yellow-and-violet robe, the Child of Miare wasn't especially easy to miss. Even so, there she was, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

Kosuzu froze in surprise. Akyuu stepped forward and rested a hand on her shoulder. “And saying all of those mean things about me. I'm hurt, really.”

“A-ah, um, we were just talking!” Kosuzu squeaked out. She tried to pull away from Akyuu, but Akyuu jerked her back into position.

“Um, good evening?” Kogasa said. “Could you maybe let go of her, please?”

Akyuu ignored her. She put two fingers to her lips and whistled.

Footsteps approached down the alley alongside the shop.

A hooded figure stepped around the corner. The hood was pulled down far enough that it hid the upper half of her face, but Kogasa caught a flash of red eyes as the woman approached. She came to a stop a few steps away. “Kind of weird for a youkai to be helping a human anyway, isn't it? Aren't we supposed to be enemies?”

Kogasa took a step back, eyeing the newcomer uncertainly. “Um, hi... I don't think we've met?”

“That's the woman,” Kosuzu said. “The one I told you ab—“

Kogasa didn't see any movement, but Kosuzu suddenly gasped and clutched at the spot where Akyuu was holding her. It took a moment or two for her to see the reason—claws. The Child of Miare now had short, black claws on the tips of her fingers, and they were dug into Kosuzu's shoulder.

“Keep her quiet,” the hooded woman said, and Akyuu clamped a hand over Kosuzu's mouth. The hooded woman turned to Kogasa, and flashed her an insincere smile. “Sorry you had to get wrapped up in this. I'd like to think we can still get along.”

“Oh, um... apology accepted! Can you please ask your friend to let go of Kosuzu, though?”

“Nobody's hurting her right now. Isn't that right?” The hooded woman shot Akyuu a pointed look. Akyuu grumbled under her breath, but loosened her grip slightly. The woman glanced back to Kogasa. “We just need to make sure she stays in place while you and I have a chat.”

Kosuzu let out a muffled protest. Kogasa looked uneasily from her to the youkai. “O-oh, um! Well, this is kind of a weird way to ask me to talk... You could have just come to my house, you know! I'm pretty friendly.” She gave an uneasy laugh. “Um, you aren't human, right?”

“Of course not. I'm a youkai. That means that you and me are on the same side, doesn't it?”

“Well, um, it's kind of hard to say when I don't know what you're doing. Actually, you're being kind of scary right now.”

“Just some precautions. I'm trying to help people like you, actually. It's important work.”

“A-ah, um, well, that's very nice of you, but my life's pretty nice already, thank you!”

“I'll make it even better, then.” The hooded woman took a step closer. Kogasa took a step back. “But, there are a couple of things I need to know first. You had a friend with you earlier, right? Where'd she go?”

“A friend? I'm not sure what you're talking about...!”

“The redhead,” Akyuu said, with an annoyed sigh.

“O-oh, I guess I did, huh?”

“Does she know about all of this?” the hooded woman pressed on. “Does she know you came here?”

“Well, she didn't really want to come, so...!”

“But you did tell her about it?”

Kogasa took another step back. “A-ah, well, _I_ don't really know what's going on here, so that's fine, right?”

“I'll tell you what. This isn't the time or place to give you the sales pitch about why you should work with me. Really breaks my heart, but that's how it goes. So, here's how we'll do it: give me back that piece of paper and forget everything that happened tonight. That's simple enough, right?”

“I-I really don't... Um, you're not going to hurt Kosuzu, are you?”

The hooded youkai gave an expansive shrug, and for just a moment, her smile took on a sharper edge. “Well, she's heard a bit too much to just let her go, but that's no skin off your nose. Just hand me the paper and we can all get on with our lives. No sense in making all this fuss over one human, is there?”

Kogasa was not, by most definitions, a brave person. She tried to avoid fights, since she wasn't very good at them. Her encounters with the shrine maiden usually left her feeling anxious for the next few days. Left to her own devices, the most violence she'd ever encounter might be a human tripping after she surprised them, and even that would leave her feeling guilty.

What she did have, though, were a constant need for appreciation, a dogged belief in the rights of all living things (and inanimate objects,) and poor impulse control. Particularly the poor impulse control.

“N-no! I mean, yes! I'm going to make a really big fuss about it! If you want to keep doing stuff to this human, um...!” She took a step forward and thrust her umbrella into the air. “You have to beat me in a duel first!”

Akyuu scoffed. The hooded woman glanced back to her. “Get the kid out of here,” she said. “Was really hoping we could do this the quiet way, but...”

She raised her hand. Kogasa readied herself for an attack... but instead, the hooded youkai just gave an understated gesture, and Kogasa found that, rather suddenly, she was upside down in the air.

“Wha—?” It was all she got out before she unceremoniously fell to the ground, sprawled on her back. 

The woman was atop her immediately, planting a foot on her stomach. “You're really starting to piss me off. One last chance. Forget about the girl and forget that anything happened.”

“I-I'm...” Kogasa took a deep breath to steady herself. Her voice still came out as practically a squeak. “I'm not going to let you hurt her!”

“And what are you gonna do about it?”

“Um. Well…”

She didn't have an answer to that, actually. She frantically searched her mind, but nothing presented itself.

Fortunately, she didn't have to make the decision. A heavy _thud_ broke the silence, as Kosuzu slammed her heel back into Akyuu's knee. Akyuu gave a grunt of pain and staggered backward, her grip loosening just enough for Kosuzu to jerk herself free.

“RUN!” Kosuzu shrieked.

Kogasa didn't need to be told twice. The commotion distracted the hooded woman just enough for her to shove off the ground and out from under her foot. She scrambled away, her umbrella slung awkwardly over her shoulder, until she could leap to her feet. A few long strides later, she grabbed onto Kosuzu's hand, nearly dragging her along toward the road, with the bells in Kosuzu's hair jingling with every step.

“Dammit. Get back here!”

Kogasa noticed a glow from behind her, just a moment before a storm of yellow-green bullets blasted past, close enough to feel the heat. They lit the street in strobelight bursts before pattering against the ground and snuffing into nonexistence.

“Where are we going?!” Kosuzu squealed.

“Um, I-I'm not sure! I just didn't want them to hurt you, and—!”

Footsteps approached them from behind, and Kogasa didn't dare look back to see how close they were. She barely broke her stride for a second, stumbling around and swinging her umbrella in a wide arc toward their pursuer. A wave of rainbow bullets exploded outward, briefly lighting the entire scene like a prism. The hooded woman stumbled back, swatting them away and muttering under her breath.

They were well out onto the street now. In one direction, it was lit by dozens of lanterns, leading toward the denser areas of the village where a few souls still braved the night. In the other direction, the light tapered off, fading into the darkness of the wilderness.

There were very few humans still out, but all of them were staring at her in shock. There was no time to explain, though. “I'm sorry!” Kogasa shouted to one of them, as she swooped through a broad turn and had to leap over the cart of fresh-caught fish he was hauling.

“I'm still sorry!” she shouted again, as she swiped her hand backward and shot another barrage of bullets, nearly hitting the fisherman in the process.

Their footsteps boomed across a bridge. Soon, they were on the road again, heading out of the village.

Getting innocent humans involved with the fight was a bad idea, and to Kogasa's youkai instincts, darkness meant safety. Hiding wasn't going to be an option, though. The hooded woman was getting closer, and worse, Kosuzu was slowing down, starting to run out of breath. Kogasa picked up her own pace, tugging on Kosuzu's hand to urge her along. “We have to keep going! Um, I have a friend, she lives near here, maybe she can help us or…!”

A weird sensation rose in the pit of her stomach, and a moment later, the world inverted again. Kogasa found herself upside down and in the air. This time, though, she was moving. Rather than falling unceremoniously to the ground, she was launched across it, bouncing and rolling down the road. Her umbrella dragged behind her. She heard—and felt—the sharp wooden _snap_ of a rib breaking.

She finally came to a stop, reeling and dizzy. Her vision spun, but she could make out the important parts—the hooded youkai had caught up to them. Her hand was latched onto Kosuzu's shoulder.

“You're _really_...” The youkai braced herself and yanked Kosuzu off her feet, tossing her over a shoulder. Kosuzu kept thrashing in protest, pounding on her back and kneeing her in the face. “... starting to get on my nerves.”

“H-hey, let go of her...!” Kogasa started to push herself up... and the youkai thrust a hand out, firing a stream of red bullets right at her. Kogasa scrambled back with a yelp, and they thudded into the ground at her feet.

“Could've just joined me, you know.” The youkai gave a swipe with her hand, and the world spun around Kogasa. She flew into the air, flailing in bewilderment. “Would have made this a lot...” Another inversion, and Kogasa smashed into the ground before she'd even gotten her bearings. “... _easier_.”

“Stop it! Leave her alone!” Kosuzu hadn't stopped resisting, but it wasn't having much effect. What was visible of the youkai's face under the hood was spread into a toothy grin.

Kogasa struggled up to her feet, wobbling side to side. Her youkai body, at least, hadn't suffered much damage from the fight. It was thoroughly unpleasant, but as a youkai, it wasn't anything worse than a severe inconvenience. Her umbrella, though, had seen much better days. Half the paper was shredded, and a few ribs had been splintered. It wasn't anything that she couldn't fix. It was also a deep, spiritual wound that gnawed at her heart.

“U-um.” Kogasa glanced from the umbrella, to the forest behind her, to Kosuzu. The youkai was raising her hand again. She knew what she had to do. She just didn't like it.

“I'm sorry!” Kogasa squeaked. She squeezed her eyes shut and slashed her umbrella forward with all her might. A torrential spray of rainbow bullets blasted down from the heavens. The hooded youkai jerked back, surprised.

As Kogasa scrambled toward the woods, she shouted, “I'll get help, I promise!”

* * *

Sekibanki might have been a youkai, but her appetite was downright peckish compared to most. One good scare was enough to keep her going for a week or so. Of course, it helped that hers were good scares, _quality_ scares, not the off-the-cuff jumpscares that certain other individuals seemed satisfied with. She counted it as a small blessing. Any more often and she'd have to risk blowing her cover in the village, and it left most of her evenings free for more pleasant endeavors.

The past twenty-four hours had been more socialization than she'd gotten in weeks, and it had left her feeling a bit ragged around the edges. A good day was better spent at home, tending to her garden, reading, and otherwise enjoying the total absence of other people. The fact that most of her social contact had been Kogasa, an exhausting individual on the best of days, didn't help.

So, she had wholly dedicated tonight to relaxing.

She'd run a hot bath, and even added some herbs from the garden, filling the house with a soothing scent. She was in no rush to get through it, either. Soaking in the water, she could feel the tension draining out of her body bit by bit. While she bathed, she kept a head hovering by the stove, watching over the stew she'd put on for dinner. A wooden spoon sat on the counter next to it, its handle covered in bite marks. It was, in Sekibanki's opinion, a small price to pay in exchange for having a hot meal waiting for her.

Take a bath, eat dinner, maybe go for a walk in a few hours and enjoy the night. If she was lucky, she might stumble across some wild fruit or mushrooms, and that would be breakfast taken care of. It wasn't a very youkai-like aspiration, but she'd never been a very youkai-like youkai.

She didn't think she did a very good job of passing herself off as a human, either. When she was really honest with herself, on the few occasions when she allowed herself an extra drink or two, it was because she felt smarter and more sensible than most humans _and_ youkai.

Her peace was interrupted by a frantic knock at the door. “Sekibanki! Sekibankiiii! Please open up!”

Case in point: Kogasa. Sekibanki sighed, with both heads. “What is it this time?”

“It's an emergency! There was somebody chasing me, and, and I think I might have been followed, and—!”

“... chasing you? What did you do?”

“I'll explain! Just, please, let me in!”

Sekibanki considered her options. She didn't really owe Kogasa any help. If anything, Kogasa owed _her_ by this point. And if she was being chased by an angry mob of humans or something... that was an uncomfortably familiar scenario. “Fine,” she sighed, against her better judgment. “But if somebody comes looking for you, I'm handing you over.”

“Wha—um, okay! Just...!”

“Open up. I know.”

Irritated, Sekibanki drew the curtain around her tub—she hadn't had cause to use it in years—while her free head hovered to the door. Carefully gripping the handle in her teeth, she opened it up, and Kogasa burst in.

“Thank you! It was really scary, there was a lady in a hood, and they took that girl—!”

“'That girl'?”

“I think they kidnapped her!”

Sekibanki's floating head headbutted the door closed. For good measure, she budged the lock into place, too. Then, it hovered up to study Kogasa's face with a thoughtful frown. “You went to see her, didn't you.” It wasn't a question.

“I did, but...”

“But what? You just showed up on my doorstep screaming for help. Do you see what I meant about helping humans now?”

“A-ah, um, actually—!”

“And why did you come _here_? Do you think I want a mob of angry humans beating on my door?”

“It was the closest place I could think of to hide,” Kogasa said, equal parts miserable and apologetic. “But, um, that's the thing! I don't think it would be humans...”

* * *

Seija's night was just going from bad to worse.

She _could_ have chased down Kogasa, but in the dark, she wasn't sure she could find anything. More importantly, doing much this close to the village was a gamble. She'd nearly blown her cover half a dozen times earlier, and if Kogasa had fled _into_ the village, she wouldn't have been able to do anything.

Instead, she'd managed to hang onto the kid. _Lucky her._

“You know,” she said tiredly, as she trudged down the dirt road, “you keep that up and I might just eat you right now.”

Kosuzu had been beating on Seija's back for twenty minutes, but even her heart wasn't quite in it anymore. “E-eat me?! You... you wouldn't really do that, right? Reimu would definitely exterminate you if you did!”

“That shrine maiden's never caught me yet.” Seija slung Kosuzu down onto the road and pinned her in place with a foot. Hearing the girl's 'oof' of pain almost redeemed the night a little.

“What are you doing?! Why are we out here, anyway?!”

Seija gave a weary sigh and glanced down. “For every word you say from here on,” she said, in a dry, bored tone, “I'm going to rip out one of your teeth.”

Kosuzu froze in terror. She studied Seija's face, obviously trying to judge how serious she was about that. Seija didn't let her expression waver for a second. The girl apparently decided that it just wasn't worth testing her.

Good.

The walk had taken them a good distance out of the village. The lights were just visible through the trees. Not that it mattered—there was no way anybody would spot them out here, anyway. Seija slid her hood off and allowed herself to relax a little. Kosuzu stared at her horns for a few seconds; if she'd been having second thoughts about staying quiet before, she definitely wasn't now.

A clattering noise approached down the road. Soon, a carriage came into view. A horse-drawn carriage, a rare sight within Gensokyo. Only a few noble families could afford such a luxury... and this particular one was painted in the colors of the Hieda family.

Sitting at the front, in the robes of a Hieda servant, was a phantom. She _had_ a name, but Seija damn well couldn't be bothered to remember it. All that mattered was she passed as a human as long as she wore enough clothes to hide the marks of her death, and she'd been loyal enough so far. Youkai who could pose as humans and had enough common sense to not ruin their cover were few and far between.

The carriage came to a stop. The door opened. From within, the unmistakable voice of Hieda no Akyuu asked, “Oh, you got the girl. Do you think we need rope? It'd be a real pain if she ran away again.”

“A-akyuu?” Kosuzu stammered. “Why are you doing this?! What did I ever—“

Seija applied a little extra pressure to her stomach, until Kosuzu silenced herself with a squeak. That teeth-removing thing was sounding better and better all the time. “I just want her gagged so I don't have to listen to her anymore.”

“Easy enough.” Akyuu had apparently come prepared. She pulled a sash from the bench across from her and hopped out of the carriage.

“Akyuu, why are you doing this?! I don't know what happened to you, but this isn't right! You should—!” The sash slipped into Kosuzu's mouth, and she went blissfully silent, apart from the occasional muffled groan.

“I'll let you in on a secret, kid.” Akyuu tied the sash in a knot behind Kosuzu's head, then leaned in, smiling widely. Her hair parted, as two fuzzy brown ears popped up from her scalp, clashing rather markedly with the violet hair. “The name's Yaeka. I'm a tanuki. Don't you worry, though. You'll be seeing the real Akyuu soon enough.”

Kosuzu gave a renewed round of squeals, and Yaeka grinned to herself, stroking the girl's cheek. Seija had to admit that it was a nice sound, but she'd never get any work done if she dwelled on it for too long. “Stop playing with your food.” She grabbed Kosuzu's wrists and hefted her up. “We need to get her into the cart before somebody shows up.”

“Fair enough.” Yaeka took Kosuzu's ankles and helped lift her from the ground, but barely constrained her excitement that long. “Does that mean I can eat this one, then? I've been getting a mite hungry, and—“

“I already told you. No eating villagers until we're good and ready.”

Yaeka pouted, but stayed silent as they hefted Kosuzu up onto the cart's floor. Once all three of them were inside, Seija rapped on the front wall. Soon, it was rumbling down the road again.

“What about the umbrella, though? Did you kill her?”

“Couldn't.” Seija leaned back and propped an elbow up on the seat. “She got away.”

“Oh, dear. And she said that she'd told that other youkai, didn't she? The one from this morning. Two witnesses, and we've barely gotten started...”

Yaeka's voice carried a slight accusing undertone. Seija shot her a warning glance just to remind her of her place, but it couldn't last long. “I know where they both live. We can post a few guards to make sure they don't go anywhere tonight. I don't think they'll be causing us any trouble, though.”

“That's awfully optimistic, coming from _you_. Why don't we just kill them?”

Seija gave a dismissive snort and looked out the window. “That kind of thinking is why you're the amateur and I'm in charge.” She glanced down to Kosuzu. “You're in luck, kid. Got an emergency print job for you, and if you do it really quick without making a fuss, I won't eat your parents. How's that sound?”

Kosuzu gave a muffled groan of protest against her gag.

“Sounds like a yes to me,” Seija said.

“What could you possibly need printed?” Yaeka asked. “We'll risk blowing our cover if we go back to that shop now.”

“Something small and quick. A few dozen posters, tops. You're worried about those youkai? We'll get the shrine maiden to kill them for us.” Seija propped her feet up on the far seat of the carriage. “Always better to get somebody else to do the heavy lifting.”


	4. Chapter 4

Sekibanki hadn't been able to go on that walk. Kogasa had spent half the night pacing the house and jumping at every sound. Sekibanki had needed to argue with her for an hour just to convince her not to run to the Hakurei Shrine at midnight. So much for a relaxing evening.

Breakfast wasn't the nice affair of wild fruits and mushrooms that Sekibanki had been hoping for, either. Just after sunrise, she ate a few things from her icebox, and she ate them cold. Making too much noise seemed like it would be cruel to Kogasa. The girl had only managed to fall asleep an hour before dawn, and when she did, she'd practically collapsed. Sekibanki had barely managed to get her into bed before she went comatose. Now, she was slumbering soundly, with only the occasional fitful turn.

Kogasa slept rigidly straight, with her tattered umbrella folded closed and clasped to her chest. It was the most uncomfortable-looking position that Sekibanki had ever seen.

She'd barely managed to piece together a coherent story about what had happened. Kogasa's explanation had been frantic and fragmented, and she'd started somewhere near the middle of the story before skipping around. As far as Sekibanki could make out: Kogasa had met with the human girl. The Child of Miare had shown up with a youkai. The youkai had threatened her and attacked, then chased Kogasa out of the village.

Kogasa didn't seem like the type to lie. She was just so... _unmalicious_ that the possibility barely even occurred to Sekibanki. Change a few details in a retelling, sure. But, it seemed obvious that whatever had happened the night before, it had involved a fight with a youkai who was allied with the Child of Miare. It was a weird thing to imagine, but few stories were too weird to be true in Gensokyo.

It bore investigation, at the very least.

Once she'd finished eating, Sekibanki brushed her hair and stepped outside.

In the morning, even this remote part of the village was busy. The main road bustled with traffic: Farmers hauling carts of produce into the village, fishermen making their way out to carefully-guarded spots along the river, and all manner of people heading to their day's work. None of them paid her any particular attention as she slipped into the flow, headed toward the village.

She was going to have to confront the human girl, she supposed. If anybody had a neutral account of what had happened, it would be her. Once Sekibanki had a better grasp on the story, she'd know whether she should be treating Kogasa like a fugitive or a refugee.

Sekibanki's plans distracted her enough that she didn't notice the crowd until she was right on top of it. They were gathered around one of the main gates into the heart of the village. The gate's pillars were a popular signboard, used by businesses and individuals alike to post matters of public interest. She picked up her pace to hurry past the crowd, but felt a woman's eyes on her back. As soon as Sekibanki glanced toward her, the woman quickly looked away.

Sekibanki approached the crowd and eased herself toward the front.

It was hard to miss what they were looking at. Most of the postings were handwritten paper scraps, but in the middle was a full sheet, in bold, printed lettering.

**REWaRD OFFERED**

**For the exterminaton of 2 dangerous youkai**

_UNKNOWN KARAKASA OBAKE. Wears blue clothes and carries a violet umbrella wit a tongue._

_SEKIBANKI, a rokurokubi. Short red hair. Normally wears red and black clothes, believed to Be posing as a human in the village._

_Wanted for the abduction of Kosuzu Motoori and the attempted murder of Hieda no Akyuu on the night of September 9. Thse are extremely dangerous and viOlent youkai. If you see them, please infrom a youkai exterminator or the Hieda household immediately.  
20,000 YEN REWARD oFFEReD_

Ah.

Her first instinct was to run, but she knew from experience that it would only draw more attention. Instead, she let out a slow breath to calm herself, turned, and stepped away from the poster.

Already, she noticed somebody in the crowd uneasily eyeing her, glancing back and forth as they compared her to the written description. She tried to look unconcerned, adjusting her bow as she walked, as if it were her biggest concern at the moment. As soon as she was out of the crowd, a wave of muttering spread through it.

She picked her pace up to a brisk walk, the fastest she imagined she could go without drawing immediate attention.

Get home quickly, that was the key. She'd been through this a few times before—in Tadami, in Nakajo, even in Yoshino. A few humans were no match for a youkai. Unless somebody got desperate, they wouldn't approach her yet.

No. They'd wait until they had a youkai hunter to form up around. Or they'd get a mob together, have some liquor to inflate their courage, and _then_ come for her. Either way, she had a while before anybody tried to corner her with torches and pitchforks. … that would be within about a day and a half, tops.

It was cold comfort, but it was still a comfort.

Without realizing it, she'd sped up to a jog by the time she approached her house. A few pedestrians gave her strange looks, but she wasn't about to hold back at this point. She practically sprinted the last few meters to her door.

“Kogasa!” she shouted, already trying to decide which belongings to save from the fire. “Kogasa, wake up! We have to go!”

Kogasa gave a low noise somewhere between a whine and a yawn. “Isn't it really early?”

“The humans are coming.” Sekibanki grabbed a skillet off the counter—most of her belongings, she could replace, but a well-seasoned cast iron skillet was a treasure—and walked over to slam it onto the bed next to Kogasa. It was as good a place as any to start collecting things. “We have to _go_.”

“The humans?” Kogasa stayed in place, arms wrapped around her umbrella half like a child with a teddy bear. She lifted her head from the pillow and shot Sekibanki a confused, sleepy look. “Which humans…?”

“All of them, probably. The village is covered in posters that say we kidnapped that human girl.”

“Kosuzu? But... huh?”

“ _And_ that we tried to kill the Child of Miare.”

“The Child of—b-but she was the one trying to kill me!”

“And who do you think the humans are going to believe? You or her?”

“But that's not fair! There has to be some way we can—“

“I don't think there is. Not now, at least.” Sekibanki grabbed a double-handful of her clothes from the wardrobe and dumped them on the bed. “And now the entire village knows I'm a youkai, so _that's_ great.”

“Oh, um. Well, I'm sure that once this blows over, they won't mind.”

“Yes, they will,” Sekibanki said bitterly. “Get up and get ready. We don't have long before somebody comes for us.”

“Where are we going, though…?”

Sekibanki paused, halfway through adding a few books to the growing pile on the bed. “… I don't know. Out of the village, for starters. Does anybody know where you live?”

“A few people...”

“Then if I were you, I'd head home and start packing anything you want to keep.” Muttering, she added, “especially if it's flammable.”

Kogasa didn't leave, though. She watched curiously as Sekibanki added a pair of mittens into the pile. “Oh!” she said brightly. “Those are nice!”

“I knit them myself.” 

“I can tell, they really feel like you.”

Sekibanki gave her a flat look. “You aren't going?”

“Oh, um, well, I was thinking. The problem is that a bunch of humans might come looking for us, right?”

“The problem is a bunch of humans, yes.”

“Well, I think I might know a place, then! We can—!”

There was a sharp knock at the door. Their gazes met. They both went still.

Another knock followed after a few seconds. “Hey, Sekibanki! Open up!”

It was Marisa.

* * *

It had been a very long night for Kosuzu.

A long twenty-four hours, really. Starting with her aborted nighttime trip to the Hakurei shrine, everything had just sort of fallen apart around her. After the confrontation behind Suzunaan, Seija had dragged her back into the shop, forcing her to throw together a very sloppy rush print job: a poster announcing, among other things, her own abduction. She'd been too terrified to resist, and as soon as she finished hurrying through it, they'd dragged her back into the carriage.

The cart had rattled through the countryside for an hour. When it came to a stop, they'd herded her into a building along the road, too quickly to even get her bearings, and now...

The room they'd stuck her in was empty, although scuff marks on the hard tile floor attested that it had seen heavy use at some point. There was a single door keeping her inside. And, unfortunately, they'd left behind a guard with a very one-tracked mind.

“So I was thinking,” the youkai said cheerily. “I think it'd be best to eat your arms first! That's on account of, the legs have more meat, but if I eat your arms, it's harder for you to fight back. … oh, but if I eat your legs first, it's harder for you to run away. Huuuuh...”

She was short. She was blonde. She looked like she was _maybe_ twelve years old, tops. If it weren't for the occasional glimpse of a too-pointy tooth when she opened her mouth, Kosuzu might believe she were a normal human kid, or at least nothing more than a fairy.

“You can't eat me!” Kosuzu squeaked, desperately, for the fifteenth time. “I already told you, right? If you eat me, Miss Reimu will be really mad!”

“Oh... like, the shrine maiden?”

“Right! She's really good at exterminating youkai who break the rules, you know.”

“Oh... She's really hard to eat. I tried it once.”

“You see! So you should leave me alone!”

“Except...” The youkai took a step closer, rising up on her tiptoes to look hungrily over Kosuzu's body. “Except. That's all gonna change anyway! That's what we're here for.”

“Er. You're here to... eat people?”

“Right! Miss Seija calls it the...” The youkai paused, furrowing her brow for a moment, and recited carefully. “... the Gensokyo Carnivore Club. We're going to start eating villagers and stuff again!”

Kosuzu shrank back against the wall, wishing she could just sink into it and disappear. “A-ah, um...! I don't... really think Reimu would let you do that! Eating villagers is against the rules!”

But the youkai no longer seemed to be listening. She stepped closer, her face splitting into a wide, toothy smile. “So just one taste is probably okay. Oh! An ear! Or a finger. Humans can grow those back anyways, right?”

“No! We can't!”

“Huh, really? Well, I'll make it quick anyway, so—“

“Hey, Rumia.” A voice came from the other side of the room, and only now did Kosuzu notice that the door had slipped open. “What do you think you're doing?”

It took Kosuzu a few seconds to recognize the voice as the one she'd heard from Akyuu barely a few hours before. Now, though, the tanuki looked nothing like Akyuu. She was a little shorter, with fluffy brown hair and bushy eyebrows. And, a bit more pointedly, fuzzy ears and a big, striped tail the size of her body. She stepped forward and rested a hand on Rumia's shoulder, her tail giving an annoyed flick behind her.

Rumia seemed oblivious. “I'm gonna take a bite out of the human,” she explained cheerfully, straining toward Kosuzu.

“And what've we told you about eating humans?”

“Uhhhhm.” Rumia tilted her head in thought. It was a few seconds before she'd jogged her memory enough to stiffly recite, “No Eating Villagers Before The Big Party, 'Less Miss Seija Says It's Okay.”

“And did Miss Seija say that it was okay?”

“Well, no, but...”

“And there you have it.”

Yaeka gently but insistently pulled Rumia back. Rumia pouted, then stepped away with a sigh. She glanced back to Kosuzu before she stepped through the door. “Don't let anybody else eat you, okay? I got first dibs!”

“I don't want anybody to eat me!” Kosuzu practically shrieked.

“Then you're in luck.” Yaeka stepped forward and rested a hand on Kosuzu's shoulder. It wasn't a forceful motion, but she applied just enough pressure to remind Kosuzu that she had claws. “We've decided to let you live for now.”

“I don't know if it's actually lucky, if you put it like that...”

“Of course it is. I'd eat you now if I could, myself. You wouldn't _believe_ how tender the meat is on young girls.”

This time, Kosuzu couldn't restrain a squeal. She flailed and tugged against Yaeka's hand, but a warning squeeze from it quickly stopped her. Now that she thought about it, she wasn't likely to escape, anyway. She'd seen several more youkai on her short walk through the building. Even if she could get outside, she had no idea where she was. It was probably a lost cause.

“But unfortunately for me, we do have some standards. So, if you'll just come right this way...”

Yaeka tugged on Kosuzu's shoulder in a way that didn't give her much say in the matter. They stepped back out into the warehouse. Other youkai walked through the cavernous space in twos or threes, and more than a few of them shot hungry glances toward Kosuzu. She kept her head down and hurried along, as Yaeka led her into a network of hallways near the back of the building. They passed a few smaller rooms, before Yaeka opened a door and tugged her into one of them.

Most of the rest of the room was sealed off by a wall of metal bars, which looked shiny and new. They divided it into two adjacent cells, each just big enough to hold one or two people without too much discomfort. In one cell was sitting a short, squat, outside world cage, grey plastic with gleaming metal bars. Inside, a rather plump-looking tanuki—a _tanuki_ tanuki, shin-high and fluffy—was slumped over and napping. Its furry sides barely fit into the container.

The other cell, on the far side of the room, held a single occupant seated in the corner. Kosuzu stumbled to a surprised stop.

“A-akyuu?!”

Akyuu looked up, blinking at her in her own momentary shock. “... Kosuzu? Well, I suppose it was only a matter of time.”

* * *

“Oi, Sekibanki!” Marisa's voice headed around the side of the cottage, followed by the sound of one of the windows rattling. Sekibanki found herself very grateful that she kept her windows locked and her curtains drawn. “You in there?”

“I don't think she's going away...” Kogasa said.

Sekibanki was adding things to the pile again, as quickly but quietly as she could. “I only need another minute or two...!”

“I don't think she'll wait another minute. And won't she notice when we leave?”

“I have a back door! We'll sneak out—“ She stopped mid-sentence. Kogasa didn't seem like the sneaking sort. Sekibanki had been surprised to learn that she could even sleep without a running dialogue. And Sekibanki would be carrying half her belongings on her back, herself. It wasn't exactly a foolproof plan.

“A diversion,” she said. With a moment's concentration, the air blurred around her head; when the distortion cleared, there was a second head hovering there. She thrust it toward Kogasa. “Open a window on the other side of the house and shove this outside.”

“Um?” Kogasa took the head, but shifted it from hand to hand distastefully. “Okay, but...”

“Just do it, please!”

“Right!”

“Hey, look, I can hear you movin' around in there,” Marisa shouted. Her voice was near the doorway again. “Actually, y'know what, don't worry about it. I can let myself in. Might be a bit of a shockwave, though.”

Sekibanki tried to focus on two sets of eyes, while her body hurriedly tossed things in the pile and Kogasa shoved the other head out the window. As soon as the second head was outside, she hurried around the house, bobbing frantically through the air. Marisa was already priming the mini-hakkero in front of the door.

“I'm here,” Sekibanki blurted out as soon as she was in sight. “What do you want?”

“Huh...” Marisa reluctantly lowered the mini-hakkero, looking her over. “Where's the rest of you?”

“I'm taking a bath. What do you want?”

“If you're takin' a bath, why's your hair dry?”

“I'm out of shampoo. What do you _want_?”

“Mostly I want to figure out what the heck's going on. Akyuu told us some really interesting stories about you and Kogasa this morning. Attackin' her, kidnapping Kosuzu, running through the middle of the village and shooting at people—“

“What's she doing?” Kogasa whispered.

Sekibanki's attention was immediately tugged back inside the house. She shushed Kogasa. “I can't concentrate on two conversations at once!”

Back outside, Marisa was giving her an uncertain look. “Uh, are you there? You kinda zoned out.”

“I, er, had to find the soap. What's this about running through the village?”

“Y'know what? Doesn't even matter. Here's the short version: If you can tell me where Kosuzu's at, today's gonna be a lot nicer for all of us. You and me are gonna have to talk to Reimu either way, but if we have Kosuzu with us, I can probably talk her out of trying to smash your head in. … well, I mean. 'Heads' plural, since it's you. You get the idea.”

“But! Really quick! I think I know where we can go!” Kogasa said, back inside the house. She shoved a few more things into the pile on the bed. It was actually pretty helpful, because in her attempts to do two things at once, Sekibanki had slowed to a crawl.

“Kogasa, I can't talk right now!”

“Right, but, um, just please follow me once we're outside, okay? I'll lead the way!”

“Fine! Whatever!” Sekibanki hissed. “Just please be quiet!”

“... please what?” Marisa asked. Sekibanki realized, too late, that she'd said the line with the wrong head.

Sekibanki stared at her in blank terror, her thoughts scrambling toward an excuse. “I was clearing my throat,” she said. “Er, I'm not sure what any of this is about, but I'd be happy to come with you once I'm out of the bath.”

“Actually, you're actin' kinda weird, so now I'm all suspicious. If it's all the same to you, I'll just show myself inside. How'd you even get your head out here? You've gotta have a window or something open, right?”

“I'm in the bath!”

“So what? You think I haven't seen boobs before?”

“Okay, fine. I'll be honest with you—“

“'cuz I have. Loads of 'em.”

“—Kogasa and I were framed.”

“Uh-huh. So does that mean you know where Kogasa is too? It'd be convenient if I could get you both at once.”

“Kogasa and I were framed,” Sekibanki repeated, raising her voice slightly. “The librarian girl asked us to—“

“Here!” Kogasa squeaked back inside the house, shoving the ends of the blanket into Sekibanki's hands. “I don't think it will fit anymore!”

Sekibanki glared at her. “Have you ever tried to hold two conversations at once?”

“What? No? I...”

Sekibanki's attention was entirely focused on the conversation inside, but she didn't need a second pair of ears to hear Marisa announce, “Right, outta my way. I'm headin' in.”

“Hurryhurryhurry!” Kogasa whimpered as she tried to help Sekibanki knot the corners of the blanket together. With two people, it took twice as long, but eventually, it was more or less secure.

Making her way to the back door demanded Sekibanki's full attention. She banished her second head and eased the door open as quietly as she could.

The two rushed outside. They were ten meters into the forest when Sekibanki heard the uncomfortably familiar sound of her front door being smashed into splinters.

* * *

Once they were into the forest, they ran.

There was no time for trickery involving extra heads or summoned darkness. Sekibanki ran as fast as her legs would carry her. She stumbled over roots and charged through patches of underbrush. Soon, they were in completely unfamiliar terrain, with nothing but the distant peak of Youkai Mountain to orient them. A few times, they even caught a glimpse of Marisa skimming across the treetops, but managed to duck into cover at the last moment.

Only when the village had been out of sight for half an hour did Sekibanki dare to believe that she might live to see the next morning.

True to her word, Kogasa took the lead. They took a long, arcing path through the forest, giving even the remotest edges of the village a wide berth. Even Kogasa's usually irrepressible mood had been dampened by the morning's events. She stayed mostly silent as they picked their way through the forest, pausing every time they heard so much as a twig snap.

Half the day had passed by the time they approached a rusty iron fence. With a little burst of flight, Kogasa hopped over it.

Sekibanki was more focused on the other side. “A graveyard?”

“Oh! Close! We aren't staying here!” Kogasa hurried past rows of graves to gesture grandly toward the other side. “It's right next to the temple!”

Sekibanki hopped the fence and made her way up to join Kogasa. After spending the morning playing cat-and-mouse with youkai hunters that only existed in her head, walking right into such an open space was unnerving. Past the treeline on the other side of the graveyard, she could in fact see the roof of the temple.

“They're really nice,” Kogasa said, heading toward the front gate. “And since they're all youkai, I bet they'll help us out!”

“Unless they decide they'd rather not associate with criminals.”

Despite the protest, Sekibanki had to admit that it was a pretty good plan. At least, it was a better plan than anything she'd been able to come up with. She'd considered heading up Youkai Mountain to take refuge there, but there was every chance that the kappa or tengu would turn them back. And that was if they got _lucky_. If they stumbled into hag territory, they'd wish the youkai hunters had gotten them.

They looped around, leaving the graveyard and walking in through the temple's front gate. Thankfully, there weren't any visitors around, but that wasn't much of a surprise. From what little Sekibanki had picked up from gossip, plenty of the village's humans were reluctant to visit a temple where most of the monks were youkai.

It seemed altogether calm, actually. They'd made it halfway up the front walk before they heard any sound, coming from a small pagoda to one side of the path. Cautiously, they approached.

“You're sure you can't think of anything else that she might have on her?” somebody asked inside the pagoda.

“The jug of sake isn't enough?” a second voice replied.

“Plenty of youkai carry those. It needs to be something that will narrow it down to _her_.”

“How about glasses? There aren't many youkai with glasses around.”

“That won't work. They can't see that high.”

“Can you just _try_ it?”

“Fine.”

There were a few seconds of whispering. Afterward, three white mice scurried out of the pagoda. They paused on the pathway to peer up at Kogasa and Sekibanki, tilting their heads side to side thoughtfully. Sekibanki stared back, just a little uneasy. They didn't seem interested, though. The mice lowered their heads and hurried past, parting to dart between their legs.

 _It's okay_ , Kogasa mouthed to her, giving her a thumbs up for good measure. She stepped around the corner of the pagoda. Sekibanki followed.

“Good afternoon!” Kogasa said, as she stepped into view.

There were three people in the pagoda. They all looked up at them.

It took a moment for Sekibanki's memory to place names on the faces: Nazrin, Shou, and Nue, left to right. Nazrin and Nue were standing on either side of the tiny building, facing each other. Shou was kneeling along the far wall, and looked like she'd been in deep thought right up until Kogasa had burst in.

“Hey, Kogasa,” Nue said. “... your umbrella looks like crap, jeez.”

“Good afternoon,” Shou said, with a slight nod.

Nazrin just gave them an analytic stare.

“I hope we aren't interrupting anything,” Kogasa said.

“Not at all,” Shou said. “Nazrin was just helping Nue look for a friend who's gone missing.”

“It's a waste of my time.” Nazrin didn't sound bitter so much as... resigned. She glanced back to the pair. “And you two are fugitives.”

“A-ah…?!” Kogasa instantly went rigid, looking at her in wide-eyed disbelief. Sekibanki wondered if she'd ever heard of a poker face. “Well, maybe we are, but—“

Sekibanki interrupted her. “How did you know?”

“The Hakurei shrine maiden was by here earlier looking for Kogasa,” Nue said. “She seemed pretty mad! I'm not sure what you two did to piss her off, but she's looking for a fight.”

Kogasa gave a despairing moan. Sekibanki stepped forward. “We were framed.”

“I'm sure you were,” Nazrin said, in a tone of flat disinterest.

“I'd like to hear them out,” Shou said, infinitely patient.

“A human girl dropped... some items on the road the other day.” Going into detail about how they'd scared a teenage girl in the middle of the night didn't seem like it would help their case any. “We took them back, and the girl slipped Kogasa a note asking for help. Kogasa met her, but a youkai showed up and attacked them. It seemed like the Child of Miare was in on it, somehow.”

There was a moment of silence after she finished. Nue broke it. “Kind of a tall tale, don't you think? I would have gone with something simpler, myself. 'The tengu reporters are spreading lies again' or something.”

“It's the truth!”

“Even if it is,” Nazrin said, “it doesn't explain what you're doing here.”

“Oh, um, well...” Kogasa shifted nervously in place. “It isn't really safe for us anywhere else! I was hoping maybe you could let us hide here until it blows over?”

Shou inclined her head in a slight nod. “Of course. We'll do our best to help you.”

“Master,” Nazrin said in a carefully level voice, “if I may, are you sure that's wise?”

“The Myouren Temple has always been a sanctuary for persecuted youkai. Half of the youkai here owe their lives to Lady Hijiri. Turning these two back would go against everything we stand for.”

“This isn't the outside world. If somebody finds out that they're here, you won't be facing down a bunch of villagers with farming implements. You'll be facing the shrine maiden, and probably that magician too.”

“Then if I need to, that's what I'll do.” Shou wasn't quite able to stifle a smile.

“Let me put it a different way. While I'm sure that you can handle a situation like that, it would be better to not cause trouble for the temple, don't you think? We don't need to turn them away.” Nazrin sounded reluctant to concede that much. “If we're doing this, we should be discreet about it. This doesn't need to be a stand against the entire human village. We can hide them. It might be best if nobody else at the temple even knows they're here. Some of the other disciples, ah...”

“Couldn't keep a secret to save their lives?” Nue suggested.

“... yes. That.”

“Ah...” Shou inclined her head, giving a self-depreciating smile. “You're right, as usual. We shouldn't look for a fight if we don't have to.”

“Really seemed like you were keen on the prospect for a few seconds there, though,” Nue said with a grin.

Neither of them acknowledged the comment.

“Do you have a spot in mind?” Shou said.

“It needs to be somewhere that none of the other disciples go regularly, and big enough for two people to live for a week or two if they have to. … I think I know a place, yes.”

“Good. Then I'll leave it to your care.”

Sekibanki allowed herself a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” she said. “We'll do our best not to cause trouble for you.”

“Don't thank me just yet,” Nazrin said. “You haven't seen where I'm sticking you.”


	5. Chapter 5

Something was strange here, but heck if Marisa could say what it was.

She took the long way back to the village, skimming along the outskirts to get a good look at them from the air before landing a short distance from Suzunaan.

Several villagers had attested that they'd seen the distant fight the night before, but there weren't many signs of it now. The road was the same trodden dirt as everywhere else. A few divots might have been gouged by stray bullets, or they might have just been the ruts of wagon wheels. If she hadn't known a fight had taken place here, she wouldn't have given them a second look.

She threw her broom back over her shoulder and made her way down the road, across the bridge and toward the wilderness. In the darkness, none of the witnesses had been able to identify any of the fight's participants except for Kogasa, but they'd seen the figures running this way. The road went for kilometers, winding between outlying farms, but she really doubted they'd ran that far.

A dozen meters further, something caught her eye.

It was a scrap of violet, laying limp across the ground. She crouched down and picked it up, rubbing it between her fingers. It was definitely oiled paper, and the shade of violet seemed a bit too familiar to be coincidence. If Kogasa had viciously attacked two human teenagers, she'd gotten injured in the process.

More importantly, though, she couldn't see any signs of a _real_ struggle around. Akyuu had sworn she'd seen Kogasa and Sekibanki forcefully hauling Kosuzu away. It was a weird claim to begin with. Kogasa had been known to thank her disposable chopsticks when she was done with them. It was kind of hard to picture her murdering somebody. And Marisa had stumbled upon her fair share of youkai victims in the countryside, too. Even the most voracious youkai tended to leave a bit of a mess, and the _smell_... the smell was hard to miss. In the unlikely event that Sekibanki and Kogasa really had abducted Kosuzu, it seemed like they were very dainty eaters.

From behind, Reimu's voice interrupted her thoughts. “Oh, there you are.” A very light sound announced that she had come to an elegant landing on the road. “Did you manage to catch them?”

“Nah, they got away,” Marisa said, without turning around. “I was able to spot them now and then, but the trees get pretty thick back there. Not even sure if they laid low, or ran off to somewhere else.”

“I guess that means they didn't have Kosuzu with them?” 

“Nope.”

Reimu went quiet, and Marisa could tell that she was making her own peace with that idea. There wasn't much doubt that Kosuzu was missing. If Akyuu was telling the truth, she was definitely in danger. If she was lying... well, Marisa was still trying to figure out just what _that_ would mean.

Reimu stepped forward and glanced down to Marisa's hands. “... did you find something?”

“Oh, this?” Marisa hesitated. Then, she pocketed the scrap of oil paper as casually as she could, feigning a grin. “Just some old junk I found. Gonna see if I can pawn it to Kourin later.”

“This really isn't the time to be thinking about that kind of thing.” Reimu sighed. “Anyway, I'm going to look through Suzunaan again and see if I can find anything. Do you want to come?”

Marisa thoughtfully ran her fingers over the scrap of paper in her pocket. “Think I'm gonna head home. There's something I wanna look into...”

* * *

"It's a little musty," Nazrin said, as she eased the massive doors open. "But it should work for two youkai."

"Wow!" Kogasa ran ahead of the group, and her footsteps echoed down the passageway. "I didn't know that you guys came in here."

The Grand Mausoleum, at the back of the graveyard, had been closed for ages. Kogasa had always wondered what was behind those giant, ornate doors, but never enough to actually sneak inside. Now that it was open, the answer turned out to be: Sculptures, mostly. And bas reliefs. And cobwebs. _Lots_ of cobwebs.

Near the edge of the sunlight, she had to skid to a stop. A long, long line of stairs stretched down into the earth, vanishing into the darkness. Her footsteps echoed from it for a few seconds afterward. The place was cavernous, and she suspected it might take half an hour to reach the bottom of the stairs.

“The only ones who come in here are some of the younger disciples,” Nazrin said. “It's a convenient place to hide when they're drinking.”

“Drinking...?” Sekibanki said.

“Eh, what Lady Byakuren doesn't know won't hurt her,” Nue replied. She'd elected to follow the three out of a lack of anything better to do.

"And it's better for them to do it here than go into the village and start trouble," Nazrin added. She stepped up next to Kogasa and raised her lantern to illuminate the staircase. Down it, there were... cobwebs. More cobwebs.

Kogasa eyed the darkness. “And those, um... people with the zombie don't still live down here?”

“The Taoists? They moved to some hidden realm or something. It sounds like too much work if you ask me, but that's Taoists in a nutshell. They came back for a few things last year, but other than that, I haven't seen them. You should have your privacy down here.”

"I kind of like the idea of a few youkai hiding out in those youkai-haters' tomb," Nue said. "Ironic or whatever."

“Uh-huh.” Nazrin paused at the top of the stairs and handed the lantern over. “Anywhere should be safe. Nobody else has any reason to go down there.”

“Right, thanks!” Kogasa said.

“I suppose you'll be wanting food and something to sleep on eventually.” Nazrin's voice suggested that even considering the idea made her tired, but she was resigned to its inevitability.

“If you don't mind,” Sekibanki said.

“I'll see what I can do. The last thing I need is for you to blow your cover over something like searching for a pillow.”

“We won't cause you any trouble! I promise!” Kogasa said.

“I'd hope so. I'll be back in the evening.”

“I'm going to hang out here for a while,” Nue said. “Let me know if they find anything?”

“They're mice,” Nazrin said. “It takes longer than that to get results.” She waved them off and headed back toward the surface.

The three descended down the stairs. The farther they went, the more ornate and descriptive the carvings became. Kogasa paused now and then to excitedly look over them, until Sekibanki shooed her along. Eventually, the webs thinned out too. Even the spiders couldn't be bothered to come this far down.

The place was ancient. Kogasa could feel it in her bones, a tangible fact that she'd sense even if her eyes were closed. Each carving was a work of art, and every brick had been laid with a sense of great purpose. It was just full of… _spirit_.

Plus, it was spooky. That was always a bonus.

She was going to like it here.

Kogasa lingered to inspect a panel that depicted a bearded man triumphantly holding a scroll up to a crowd of people, then hurried to catch up with the other two, her geta clicking on the stone stairs.

“So, hey, Kogasa,” Nue said, looking back to her thoughtfully. “You guys said the Child of Miare is working for a youkai or something, right? What's the story?”

“Hmm, I'm not sure...” Kogasa said. “The youkai had pointy teeth, but that's all I really saw...”

“But she mostly looked human? … ah, never mind. I just realised, if she can't hide her teeth, I guess she's probably not a shapeshifter.”

“Or maybe she's just not a very good shapeshifter?”

“Like, a 1/32 werewolf or something. Only her teeth change shape!”

“That isn't really how it works,” Sekibanki said.”

“It's called a joke, Professor Fun Facts.” Nue shot Sekibanki an annoyed look, which she ignored, then turned back to Kogasa. “The Child of Miare though, _she_ could have been a shapeshifter, right? It makes more sense than her deciding to work with youkai.”

“Huh, I'm not sure. I guess so.”

Sekibanki paused and looked back to the pair of them. “Why so many questions? Do you know something?”

“Well… maybe. That's why I was talking to Nazrin, you know. Mamizou's missing lately.”

Kogasa took a worried step forward. “Something happened to Miss Mamizou?”

“I don't know. Maybe. I mean, sometimes she just gets an idea for a really elaborate trick and disappears for a few days.”

“So, what?” Sekibanki said.

“Come on, think about it,” Nue said, and leaned forward to give Sekibanki a reproachful flick on the nose. “Weird stuff is happening in the village, and one of the humans is acting _extra_ weird. Like she was replaced by an imposter or something, right? And Mamizou is a...?”

She gave them a prompting look. Sekibanki stared back at her.

Kogasa frowned as she considered this, then beamed in realization. “… oh! Tanuki! She can shapeshift!”

“Right! I'm glad one of you is awake!”

“Are you suggesting,” Sekibanki said, “that your friend did something to the Child of Miare, took her place, held another human girl captive, and tried to kill Kogasa?”

“See, that's the thing. That really doesn't sound like Mamizou.”

“I really hope she doesn't want to kill me...” Kogasa said.

“Plus, it would be weird of her to plan something so serious and not even tell me about it. I'm an unknowable ancient youkai. If she was seriously going to to take on the Child of Miare, I'm the first person she'd call.”

“I'm sure that notoriously frail teenagers find you terrifying,” Sekibanki said.

“Wanna see how you stack up?”

“I really don't think this is the best time to be trying to scare the Child of Miare.”

“Oh, no, I was saying that you're the frail teenager in this scenario.”

“So if it isn't her...” Kogasa said, oblivious to their bickering, “... it could still be related, right? It's kind of weird for two people to disappear so close together.”

“It's _got_ to be. Somebody like Mamizou wouldn't just vanish. … that still doesn't give us a lot to work with, though.” Nue sighed, but it didn't last long. Soon, she straightened up and hurried forward to take the lantern from Sekibanki. “For now, let's go see your new home.”

* * *

Kosuzu stirred in her sleep. She was uncomfortable. It was the first thing that occurred to her, but it was the first drop in a flood of anxiety. She was uncomfortable because she was sleeping on the floor. And she was sleeping on the floor because...

_That_ realization was definitely enough to shock her awake. She jolted upright with a gasp, looking wildly around the room. However long she'd been asleep for, it had been long enough for the warehouse to mostly empty out. The distant sounds of youkai activity were much quieter, and the lights were lower. To one side, Akyuu was sitting against the wall, idly watching her. To the other side...

In the other cell, in an even tinier cage, Mamizou stirred, raising her fuzzy tanuki head to look at Kosuzu with beady brown eyes. “Oh, you're awake. Feel better now?”

They'd talked for a few hours before she'd finally managed to pass out, but she still couldn't get over the fact that Mamizou was a tanuki. Or, okay, she'd learned that quite a while ago. But that was Mamizou as a tanuki, not a _tanuki_. She was supposed to be tall and vaguely older, grinning at the world from behind a pair of spectacles. As a chubby furball the size of a small dog, it was a bit harder to take her seriously.

“Well, it's a real pity,” Mamizou continued, after a few seconds had passed in silence. “Seems the poor thing's so traumatized, she can't even answer.”

“A-ah, um, I can talk, I can talk!” Kosuzu said. “I'm just, um. … I'd kind of hoped all of this was a dream.”

“If it's a dream, it's not a very good one, I figure.” Mamizou plopped her butt down and idly scratched at her side. “I'd have words with that baku, m'self.”

“Doremy?” Akyuu said. “I wouldn't bother. I'm told that she's just been taking it as an opportunity to give you a sales pitch for her new pillows.”

“That so? Figures. Can't even get good service in your dreams these days.”

Kosuzu sighed out the last of her tension. Or, well, most of it. The fact that a bunch of youkai had thrown her into a cell wasn't exactly welcome, but none of them were around right now. She yawned and stretched, then scooted back to rest against the back wall. “Um... I didn't notice it before, but you two seem kind of calm about this whole thing...”

Mamizou shrugged, which was an impressive gesture coming from a quadruped. “No sense gettin' worked up about what you can't change. We've been here a few days, too. Can't stay on edge for a whole week.”

“What she said, mostly.” Akyuu said. “Trust me, the first day or two, we tried everything we could think of to get out of here.”

“Oh... wait!” Kosuzu bolted forward, leaning over excitedly. “Miss Mamizou! Couldn't you just shapeshift and break out of your cage?”

“Well now!” Mamizou said. “Can't say I thought of that one. We just might have you girls home by supper!”

“A-ah, really?”

“Yep! Sure is a turn of good luck that I've got you here to think of these things. Never woulda occurred to me.”

Mamizou yawned and sprawled out in her cage. Kosuzu watched expectantly for a few seconds, until her cheeks started reddening. “... you were being sarcastic, weren't you...?”

“'course I was. Can't shapeshift if you're in a cage. How else do you think we ever get caught?”

Kosuzu slumped back against the wall. A few minutes passed in silence, until she glanced curiously to Akyuu. “And, um, Akyuu, there's this other tanuki who's been impersonating you...”

“Yes, I know.” Akyuu sighed. “I think that's why the threw me in here in the first place.”

“How did they catch you, though? Everybody in the village would know if a bunch of youkai attacked your house, wouldn't they?”

“They didn't have to. I left home with a servant to do some research for the Chronicle. Once we were out of the village, she revealed herself as that tanuki.” Akyuu lowered her eyes. “I can't do much to resist a youkai by myself.”

“Oh...”

“Yaeka's pretty clever like that.” Mamizou sound somewhere between proud and bitter. “Been training her for years. She always was a bit too hard-headed and proud, but I never figured she'd go this far.”

“Did she catch you too, Mamizou?”

“Last I remember, we were out drinking. Next thing I knew, I was waking up here with a real pain of a hangover. Reckon she slipped something into my cup when I wasn't looking. Sloppy on my part, but it's only natural for a youkai to get into her drink. Guess she figured that whatever she's up to, it would be easier without me in the way. … and you know what the worst thing is?”

“What...?”

“This here's what they call a 'pet carrier' in the outside world.” Mamizou swatted the wall of her cage with a paw. It rattled around her. “It's a real disgrace.”

“You're still the lucky one,” Akyuu said dryly. “From what I've picked up, they plan to eat me and Kosuzu once this is all done.”

A jolt of adrenaline shot through Kosuzu, but after a moment's reflection, that wasn't anything she didn't already know. It still wasn't exactly relaxing to hear it spoken aloud. “That's right... We, we have to get out of here before that! Somebody has to come save us sooner or later, right?!”

“Well, I hope so.” Akyuu rested back against the wall and folded her hands in her lap, settling in for a night of sleep. “I've been eaten by youkai before. It isn't much fun.”

* * *

Sekibanki rolled over in her sleep, for what felt like the fiftieth time tonight. A great deal of work had obviously gone into the Grand Mausoleum's construction. It was probably the sort of thing that had taken the labor of an entire prefecture back in the day. The carvings were elaborate, the tombs were spacious, and the hallways were wide enough to parade an army down.

They hadn't given much thought to making the floor comfortable, though. Rough-hewn brick didn't seem like it would be the most agreeable surface in the best of times, and right now, with only a thin blanket padding it out, it was downright unbearable. Her spine felt like it was twisted into a pretzel in its attempts to rest against the surface. As a youkai, that sort of thing wouldn't kill her, but she was starting to wish it would.

Somewhere around the fifty-sixth time that she rolled over, she realized that there was light in the room.

Sekibanki opened her eyes. The light was flickering, casting deep shadows up the walls. They'd settled into the first larger chamber they'd found, a few minutes past the bottom of the staircase. It was chilly, and it would be a real pain to climb in and out of every day, but they'd appreciate the head start if somebody busted in looking for them. The chamber was some kind of monument to the tomb's former inhabitants, with a life-sized statue of Shotoku in the center. Now, light was coming from the other side of the statue.

Her tension lasted for about three seconds, until the edge of a purple umbrella poked past the side.

With a sigh of relief, Sekibanki slipped out from under the covers and around the statue. Kogasa was sitting on her own makeshift bed, with the lantern next to her and a small pile of supplies in front of her. As Sekibanki watched, she very carefully dabbed one of the umbrella's fractured ribs with glue, then slipped it back together. She held it firm for a few seconds, and when she released it, there wasn't even a hint of a fracture. She ran her fingers over it, inspecting her work, and—

Sekibanki took a step forward. “Does that work?”

Kogasa yelped in surprise. She was seated, but somehow still managed to leap up half a meter in the air, both arms going wide and then fumbling to avoid dropping her umbrella. She looked back at Sekibanki for a few seconds, wild-eyed, before she managed to calm herself down enough to respond. “A-ah, um! Sorry, you just surprised me…!”

“… don't tell me that you're afraid of the dark.”

“I'm not! I just, um...” Kogasa trailed off and gave a dejected little wiggle on the floor before murmuring, “The shrine maiden...”

“You're right. Even youkai have something to be afraid of on a night like this.”

Now that Kogasa was aware of her presence anyway, Sekibanki stepped out from behind the statue and approached her. She crouched down to get a better look at the umbrella, and when Kogasa didn't flinch away, reached over to carefully run her fingers across the newly-repaired rib.

“… it will heal naturally if I give it some time,” Kogasa explained. “But I'm a craftswoman anyway, and, um… if something happens, I don't want to slow you down...”

Sekibanki pulled her hand away and settled down onto the floor. It drew a few new aches from her back. At this rate, it would take all day just to straighten it out. She tugged her head off and gave her neck a firm push to help work out the stiffness, then popped it back into place. It was better, but she had a long way to go. “How did that happen, anyway?”

“It was during the fight with that youkai! She slammed me into the ground a lot...”

Sekibanki gave a distracted nod, watching Kogasa pull a small roll of oil paper from the pile. She took a few minutes to trim it to the exact size of one of the now-missing panels, then smoothed it over the gap, stretching it out. It blended in exactly, and Sekibanki was left wondering where in the village somebody would ever buy eggplant-colored oil paper.

“I did tell you that we shouldn't get involved,” Sekibanki said, after a few minutes had passed.

“I know... just, um, it felt like the right thing to do, you know? I guess that's what got us in all of this trouble, though...”

“This sort of thing doesn't go well for us. Getting involved with humans, I mean.”

“I like humans, though! An umbrella isn't good for much without a person to use it... Oh, um, there are youkai, but they don't use as many. Especially if they're a kappa! Kappa have these weird coats they wear in rain sometimes instead of using an umbrella. That's kind of weird, isn't it?”

Sekibanki sighed and rested against the statue. Her thoughts were going off on their own path, one that didn't have very much to do with Kogasa's rambling monologue about umbrellas. “It's happened to me before, you know. A few times, actually. It's hard to avoid for a youkai who lives among humans.”

“Huh? Um, wearing a raincoat?”

“... no. This sort of thing.” Sekibanki gestured vaguely toward their surroundings. “Being chased from my home by youkai hunters and needing to lay low for a week.”

“Oh...”

“The first time, a human recognized me after I scared him, and I woke up in the middle of the next night with my house on fire.”

“Since you jumped out and scared him, maybe he thought you were a mean youkai? I bet he'd be a lot nicer if he knew who you were!”

“The second time, somebody tried spying on me while I was bathing. After he saw me take my head off, he came back a few hours later with his friends and every weapon they could find.”

Sekibanki held Kogasa's gaze after that one. This time, Kogasa didn't have a response. She stammered, “O-oh,” and turned her attention back to her repairs.

Sekibanki grumbled to herself and turned away. It wasn't like her to complain about her past to somebody so easily, but it also wasn't every day that she got ran out of her home by a youkai hunter and ended up sleeping in a crypt. Between the stress and the lack of sleep, she supposed she should just be happy that she was still coherent.

Fortunately, she was saved from trying to salvage the conversation. Up the distant stairs, dozens if not hundreds of meters above them, the front door to the mausoleum swung closed with a heavy slam. They both froze in place, glancing toward the gloom-filled staircase. Sekibanki's heart thundered in her ears, as she tried not to acknowledge that she was straining to hear how many footsteps were descending toward them…

“It's me.” Nazrin's voice echoed down the hallway and rebounded on itself, announcing her arrival half a dozen times from multiple directions. “I brought breakfast.”

“O-oh, it's Nazrin. Good morning!” Kogasa called back.

Nazrin didn't respond. For a few minutes, they sat in silence, listening to her descending footsteps. Finally, she stepped into the circle of lantern light. She was carrying a tray with two plates of food—fish, rice with eggs cracked over it, and small croquettes. Sekibanki stared for a moment before she realized. “It isn't vegetarian?”

“Byakuren tried keeping the temple on a vegetarian diet once. After about the third time that she caught disciples cooking meat in their quarters, she learned when to turn a blind eye.” Nazrin sat a plate in front of each of them, then stepped back, her arms crossed. “What's your plan? Are you going to lay low for a few days?”

“We don't have much choice,” Sekibanki said. “We still don't even know what this is about.”

Kogasa nodded along with her, before pausing in realization and starting to pat at her clothes. “Oh! Oh! Wait!”

“... did a bug get in your dress?”

“No, it's way better than that!” Kogasa finally yanked a folded square of paper from her pocket. She held it up, giving it a triumphant little shake, then tugged the corners apart and spread it on the floor.

The paper was creased and rumpled after spending a day folded in Kogasa's pockets, but the text was still readable. It was a poster, professional printed, and with far fewer misspellings than the wanted poster she'd seen earlier:

_The Hieda household is honored to announce the first ever Summit for a Peaceful Gensokyo, a banquet to promote peace and mutual understanding between humans and youkai. This historic meeting of Gensokyo's races will be hosted at the main Hieda family manor. Attendance is invitation only, but will be opened to one hundred humans and one hundred youkai, representing all of Gensokyo's major races._

_The Child of Miare, Hieda no Akyuu, will be giving a speech on Thursday, August 23. Please raise any concerns at that time._

“Er,” Sekibanki said. “What is this supposed to be?”

“Kosuzu gave it to me! She said that the youkai who was acting like the Child of Miare wanted her to print it.”

“Oh, those,” Nazrin said, disinterested. “Those posters are all over the village. I think somebody hung them last night. I'm not sure what they're hoping to accomplish. It's so optimistic that even Lady Hijiri had some second thoughts about it.”

“It does seem strange.” Sekibanki looked up to Kogasa. “Are you sure there wasn't a mistake? Your human might have grabbed the wrong poster.”

“It's the right poster! And look!” Kogasa pointed at the lower line. “Hieda no Akyuu! That's that human that got replaced by a shapeshifter. That means it has to be connected, right?”

Nazrin sighed, crossing her arms as she stared down at the paper. “And let me guess, you'll be wanting to be there for her speech.” Judging by her voice, she was already imagining all the ways this could go wrong and backfire in her face.

“I don't know about 'want to,'” Sekibanki said. “… but it's probably a good idea.”


	6. Chapter 6

A mouse weaved its way through the maze of crates and boxes that filled the alley. He darted around a puddle of water, slipped into the shadows of a hand cart, and scurried to the wall, where the boxes were stacked highest. He grabbed onto one, clambering up the side with his little paws, then hurried along to the next, where he was able to climb even higher. Box by box, he made his way upward, like he was scaling a massive staircase.

After four boxes, he had reached the top, but he knew where he was going. About ten centimeters away, a waterspout ran down the corner of the building. He backed up to build speed, scurrying as fast as he could before leaping into the air. He just barely managed to snag a landing on the pipe's surface, impacting with enough force to send a heavy wobble through it. Clinging to the side, the mouse climbed the rest of the way to the roof, where a massive hand awaited. He hopped on, and was raised the last meter.

Nazrin brought the mouse to her face and listened attentively as he delivered his report, a series of barely-audible squeaks.

“What's he saying?” Kogasa asked. She leaned in closer, like she was hoping to hear tiny words in the squeaks.

“I don't think we're going to get much more information like this,” Nazrin said. “There are too many anti-mouse wards around here.”

“Um...” Kogasa leaned over the edge and peered down into the alley. “I didn't know there was such a thing as mouse wards...”

“They aren't actual wards. They're some kind of... cat statue,” Nazrin said distastefully. “Somebody stuck them in half the buildings in the village a while back. They're like having somebody scream in your ear. The mice can't stand them.” She patted the mouse's head as she spoke, soothing him.

“Did it get a good look at the crowd?” Sekibanki asked.

“' _He_ ,'” Nazrin corrected her sharply. “And you have to understand that mice don't see the world the same way that you do. A group of humans is like a forest to them.”

“Right...”

The roof where they'd taken up residence had a low wall around it—the whole reason they'd chosen it, really. Now, Sekibanki scooted over to peek at the ground below. The speech that Akyuu's flyers had announced wasn't supposed to start for another few minutes, but already, quite a few humans were milling about. And not just normal humans, either.

“... the shrine maiden is down there,” Sekibanki said. “And the witch.”

“Really?” Kogasa leaned over the wall for her own peek.

Sekibanki pulled her back with a hand on the shoulder... for the fourth time since they'd arrived. “You're going to give us away if you keep doing that.”

“Ah, sorry! I was just trying to get a better look.”

“Then try to do it more discreetly. If somebody spots a purple umbrella up here, it will be pretty obvious who it is.”

“Oh, yeah! That's one nice thing about my color! It's really unique. People can't help but stare when they see me, you know?”

“I guess 'unique' is one way to put it,” Nue agreed, from her spot leaning against the far wall.

“The shrine maiden shouldn't be a problem,” Nazrin said. She barely looked up from her work as she spoke, taking reports from a seemingly endless parade of mouse spies. Every few seconds, another would skitter up the side of the building, and she'd lift it up to listen to whatever it had to say. Now and then, she sent one away with a single peanut as a reward. “You weren't planning to get noticed anyway, right?”

“Of course not,” Sekibanki said.

Nue stretched out in place, sinking further down against the wall in relaxation. “I'm not sure why we're listening to her dumb speech anyway. It isn't like she's going to tell us what she's really up to. 'Oh, hey, thanks for coming out today, everyone. By the way, this is all part of my really clever plan to take over Gensokyo or whatever.'”

“We have to start somewhere. And I don't hear you offering a better plan.”

“Hey, sure, I can make one. Easy. We lean over the side and yell, 'THAT GIRL IS A SECRET YOUKAI OR SOMETHING,' at the top of our lungs, then go have a drink while Reimu takes care of it.”

“We should probably figure out what's actually going on first.”

“And find out where they took that girl,” Nazrin added.

“Fine, fine.” Nue shrugged. “Something fun instead, then. Like throwing one of Banki's extra heads down there and watching them freak out.”

“If you'd rather do something _productive_...” Nazrin scooted forward in front of Nue, in a way that suggested she didn't have much of a say in the matter. “... why don't you go ahead and disguise one of her heads? The Child of Miare should arrive before long.”

“Fiiiiiine.” Nue sighed, but didn't put up an argument. They'd spent half the previous evening arguing about plans before arriving at this one, and every step of the way, Nue had wisecracked and made terrible proposals. She was obviously pretty smart, but focus didn't seem like her strong point.

In theory, the plan was simple. Nue would plant a Seed of Unknown Form in one of Sekibanki's heads. It would allow it to fly around the crowd, and as long as nobody paid it much attention, they'd all just write it off as... whatever they expected to see flying around, really. With any luck, she'd be able to get behind the scenes and figure out what was happening with Akyuu, or overhear some useful information.

Nue straightened up and rolled her shoulders. With her tongue poking from the corner of her mouth in concentration, she spread her fingers and then drew them all together to a point, like she was kneading bread dough. Slowly, she pulled her hands apart, and something flickered in the gap between them, multicolored and iridescent. The thing popped in and out of existence, reappearing in a jarringly different position every time, like a marooned fish flopping on the shores of reality.

Sekibanki had to avert her eyes to avoid a headache.

“Ohhh...” Kogasa leaned in for a better look. “I always thought Seeds would look, um... scarier? But it's kind of cute, I think!”

“They aren't _cute_!” Nue sounded hurt. “You only think that because you're a youkai.”

Sekibanki dared to eye it again. “Is it really safe to use that thing on a person?”

“It's never killed anybody yet. I mean, that I know of, at least! At _worst_ , you'll get a brain tumor or something.” Nue held the Seed in the air, a miniature light show on her fingertips. “Now stop stalling and hand me a head.”

“I guess it's too late to say no.” Sekibanki rested her hands on the sides of her head. It blurred, and when they pulled away, she was holding a second one. She offered it over.

Nue reached out. Her hand filled Sekibanki's gaze, her fingers brushed her forehead, and...

A numb, stiff sensation ran through her, like her jaw had slipped out of the socket. It quickly passed, leaving only a strange feeling of _wrongness_ lingering behind. Sekibanki tilted her head in the air a few times, trying to get a good look at herself, before she realized the flaw with that approach. Not her proudest moment, she had to admit. Instead, she momentarily shifted her attention back to her body, letting her get a good look at herself. Or... something. Instead of her head, a small cluster of leaves swirled through the air where it should have been. If she really focused on it, it revealed itself to be her head again, like she was suddenly seeing the hidden side of an optical illusion.

“Is, er, everybody seeing that?”

“Seems like it,” Nue said, and glanced to the others. “How's it look?”

“It, um...” Kogasa leaned in, peering at it. “Oh, it's a butterfly, I think!”

Nazrin squinted in confusion. “Sometimes it looks like a pigeon, and sometimes it looks like a balloon.”

Nue glanced back to Sekibanki. “It doesn't work great with something this size, since there aren't a lot of head-sized flying things. It probably won't hold up to much scrutiny. So, you know! Try to act natural. Whatever counts as natural for a butterfly, a pigeon, _and_ a balloon.”

“Right... can I go now?”

“I think so,” Nazrin said. “Just try to keep us updated.”

“Sure.”

Sekibanki hovered her disguised head forward and peeked over the edge of the wall. The crowd below had grown a bit. More importantly, after a few seconds of peeping on it, nobody paid her much attention. She eased herself up and over it and hovered forward, flying into the open air. Soon, her viewpoint was meters away from the building, and yet, nobody looked up toward the decapitated head flying through the air.

Once she dipped low enough to make out individual conversations and remained unnoticed, she grew a little bolder. She skimmed along above the crowd, toward the closest thing it had to a front.

The rattle of wheels on the rough street announced the arrival of a carriage in Hieda household livery.

“Oh! Oh!” Kogasa whispered, back at her body. “There it is!”

“I can't keep up with a carriage,” Sekibanki said. “I'll try to get close once they stop. … and please don't distract me.”

* * *

“Some crowd.” Marisa rose up on her tiptoes to look across the square full of people. She was still too short to see past most of the shoulders. “Think this is the biggest gathering since the last festival?”

“It's only natural, isn't it?” Reimu said. “If somebody like Akyuu says that there's going to be peace between humans and youkai...”

Marisa settled back to a normal position. “Then they're full of crap?” she finished for her.

“... probably. Either way, you'd want to show up to find out what it was about, right?”

“I mean, that's why _we're_ here, isn't it?”

Marisa had hit the nail on the head, but Reimu didn't answer. Speaking her actual thoughts out loud would be... impolite. Gensokyo's balance depended on the conflict between humans and youkai. It didn't have to be _violent_ conflict, at least where the villagers were concerned, but if Akyuu intended to bridge the gap entirely... well. Reimu had never needed to exterminate somebody who was fully human. Akyuu was a friend. She didn't want to start now.

Instead, Reimu said, “The udon shop is having a 60% Off sale to mark the occasion. I had to come into town for that, at least.”

“Ah, yeah, I guess you've gotta start savin' up, huh?” Marisa grinned and elbowed her. “On account of you're gonna be out of a job soon, and all.”

Again, Reimu didn't respond... but again, Marisa had come pretty close to the truth. Part of her was just a little afraid that if this amounted to anything, her world would get turned upside down.

Not that she'd let it come to that. Unfortunately.

The sound of hooves announced the approach of Akyuu's carriage, and a hush fell over the crowd. It pulled into the square and slowed to a stop. The driver slid down to open the door, and Akyuu stepped out, following by a hooded servant. That in and of itself was strange enough to draw Reimu's attention for a few seconds, but no longer. She'd only visited the Hieda household a few times, and... well, having servants was pretty alien to Reimu's worldview to begin with. Who knew why one would dress differently. Probably some very fancy reason that rich people would criticize her for not knowing.

Toward the front of the crowd, a wooden crate was waiting. The hooded servant gave Akyuu a leg up, giving her just enough of a height boost that she was visible across the square. She gave a friendly wave and smiled. “Good afternoon. Thank you for joining me today, everyone. I hadn't expected a few posters to get that much attention.”

The crowd's chattering died down as she spoke, as one by one, every eye turned toward Akyuu.

“I'm sure that most of you have already heard the news, but just to clarify—yes, in a few days, the Hieda manor will be hosting a banquet. Tomorrow, my servants will start delivering the invitations. Half of the attendees will be humans, some of the cornerstones of this village. The other half will be youkai.”

A louder murmur ran through the crowd. A few people shouted questions... and a few more shouted insults. Akyuu waited through it all, with her head lowered patiently.

“So, what's her angle here, do ya think?” Marisa asked conversationally. “I mean... nobody with common sense is gonna say one quick dinner's enough to make peace, right?”

“I'm not sure she still _has_ common sense, if she's saying things like this.” Reimu's arms had crossed sometime during the speech, almost without thinking about it.

Once the clamor had gone on for a while, Akyuu raised a hand. Slowly, it died down. “I'd like to reaffirm that, yes, I believe everything that I wrote in the announcement. Only by bringing humans and youkai together as individuals can we ever have peace in Gensokyo. I think that this is the logical first step. I'm sure that some of you have doubts. I never meant to imply that this would be easy. This banquet is only the beginning. All I'm asking for now is for you to trust me. If you get an invitation, I can promise your safety if you attend. And a wonderful meal, of course.”

The speech continued, but Reimu had tuned it out at this point. _Something_ wasn't right. Akyuu should know better than anybody that this wouldn't work out. Keeping humans afraid of youkai was practically her job, these days. Unless she was being manipulated by a youkai, or had gotten some strange ideas in her head after the whole incident with Kosuzu…

Near the front of the makeshift presentation area, a butterfly floated in the air, bobbing in place just above the crowd. Reimu's eyes idly followed it as she tried to puzzle out Akyuu's motivations. It was possible that there was more going on here than she knew about. She wouldn't put it past Yukari to arrange something like this as part of some weird scheme. Or Akyuu could have just been hit with a streak of optimism.

A taller man pushed through the crowd in front of them, breaking her view of Akyuu for a few seconds.

Something struck her as strange, but it took a few seconds to put her finger on it. The butterfly was gone. Now, in its place, there was a dragonfly. Reimu frowned, squinting at it. The dragonfly flickered. For just an instant, something else hovered in its place. She caught a glimpse of red hair.

“Marisa,” she murmured, and tucked a hand into a sleeve to pull out a stack of ofuda. “Keep your eyes open.”

“Huh?” Marisa glanced over from watching the speech. “What's goin' on?”

“It's time to find out what's actually going on here,” Reimu said, pulling her hand back for a throw.

* * *

Even disguised, trying to investigate the speech was harder than it sounded.

The few times that Sekibanki let her head drift too close to the crowd, hands swiped at her, trying to swat illusionary insects, pests, or who knew what else. She couldn't move too quickly, or she'd draw too much attention. She didn't dare to hold still for too long, because it seemed like it would be unnatural for most things.

She made her way in a slow circle around the back of the presentation, but there wasn't much to see. The doors on Akyuu's carriage were closed, and she didn't think she was going to be able to open them with her mouth without attracting a lot of attention. There wasn't much else back there—a servant milling about who could have been a youkai, or could have just been a slightly odd-looking human.

Once she'd satisfied herself back there, she hovered back into position over the crowd. She didn't want to get too close to Akyuu herself, she suspected. A short distance behind her, though, was that hooded figure. It was hard to tell past the hood, but her attention was fixated on the speech. They _did_ know she was a youkai, too… Slowly, Sekibanki eased herself forward and down, getting a better look up that hood. She caught a flash of red eyes, but that didn't narrow down the possibilities much. She moved lower, revealing the rest of the face inch by inch. She was so low now that she could feel the wind from the occasional movement in the crowd below, but she wasn't going to give up without finding _something_. She sank lower, and lower, and…

Stopped. Her attention switched back to her other head. “It's Seija,” she said.

All three pairs of eyes on the rooftop turned toward her. “The hooded woman who attacked Kogasa,” she continued. “It's that amanojaku outlaw, Seija Kijin.”

“Oh!” Kogasa said. “With the hair!”

“… right, with the—“

Sekibanki didn't get to finish that sentence. She felt something slice through the air near her other head, sending a wave of wind washing across her face. She hurriedly shifted her consciousness back to it, and arrived just in time to see the unfortunate red-white blur of an ofuda. A near-miss.

“One of those youkai is here!” Reimu shouted. Sekibanki couldn't see her, but she sounded like she was moving closer. “Everybody out of my way!”

Sekibanki didn't waste any time. She spun in the air, frantically getting her bearings again, until she spotted the rooftop they were hiding on. She pushed forward, levitating toward it with as much speed as she could manage. A fistful of ofuda lashed up at her from below, and she couldn't even see them in time to dodge. She just gritted her teeth, bracing herself for an impact that didn't come.

The flight felt like ages, even though she logically knew that it couldn't have been more than a few seconds. Soon, she could see over the wall—Nazrin hurriedly shepherding her mice back into a basket, Nue peering curiously over the edge of the roof, Kogasa panicking, and her own body, standing there uselessly as every ounce of her consciousness focused on getting her second head home safely. She pushed up, and up, and split her attention just enough to raise her arms to grab it...

And Kogasa tackled her. The world blurred as she was shoved to the ground, but in the air where her head had been moments earlier, she saw another ofuda fly past.

There was a brief moment of awkwardness, as Kogasa's eyes met her from an inch away. Kogasa scrambled to slide back off of her. “Sorry...! That one looked like it was going to hit you!”

“Yeah, huh...” Nue said. “Wasn't somebody being really anal retentive about not standing on the edge of the rooftop earlier...?”

“I don't want to hear it.” Sekibanki pushed herself up and yanked her second head in, making disappear in a smoky blur. Below, she could hear more shouts moving through the crowd—Reimu probably wasn't going to let her off for that easily. For the moment, though, the three of them were alone on the rooftop. “Where did Nazrin go?”

“She wasn't about to wait around,” Nue said. “Now get going! I'll slow the shrine maiden down.”

“Marisa is down there too. You can't fight them both—“

“I'm the great unknown youkai. Don't tell me what I can't do.” Nue stood up, grinning. “Now go!”

Sekibanki didn't get much say in the matter, anyway. Kogasa wrapped a surprisingly strong arm around her and tugged her to her feet. “Try to be careful, okay?”

“The humans're the ones you should be worried about!”

Kogasa hesitated for just a moment, then gave a firm nod and took off running across the roof. Sekibanki hurried after her. They leapt over the wall at the edge, landing with enough force to send them stumbling, but nothing that was seriously dangerous to a youkai. Kogasa recovered first, and gave Sekibanki's arm a tug to hurry her along as she passed.

Cries of confusion and outrage rose from the direction of the crowd. Kogasa glanced back. “I really hope Nue isn't hurting them...”

“That isn't really our problem right now!”

The alley ended, and they dashed out onto the street. It was one of the main thoroughfares of the city, and more importantly, it led straight into the square where the speech had been happening. They stepped out barely ten meters in front of the vanguard of the retreating crowd. The crowd hadn't noticed them yet, but Sekibanki assumed it was only a matter of time.

They took off in the other direction. Soon, they could hear Reimu and Marisa shouting in the midst of the crowd. Sekibanki strained to speed herself up, her cape billowing behind her. She'd never been in particularly good shape, but she wasn't about to get taken down _here_.

From somewhere in the air behind them, Nue threw down a generous handful of Seeds. Multicolored streaks rained down from the sky, and where they landed, the world warped and changed. A hand cart flickered between a few options before deciding that it was a fat dog sprawled out on the road. A wooden post shivered indecisively before turning into a dead-eyed Reimu, staring at them. A small bush turned into a pile of crates.

Above them, Nue cackled. “More! Keep going!”

Sekibanki didn't dare to look back, but it sounded like it had been effective. The sound of the crowd grew more distant, and while she was fairly certain the hurried footsteps she heard behind her were Reimu and Marisa, even they slowed down, firing off a few attacks at illusionary decoys or stumbling past obstacles that only existed in their minds.

“This is great!” Nue flew lower now, throwing out Seeds of Unknown Form by the handful. The street exploded into churning phantasmagoria, human figures and buildings and trees and animals and carts all turning into one another in turn. “Cower before the unknown, humans!” She leapt higher, spinning in the air with a drunken giggle. “The terror that only I can show you!”

* * *

The road was chaos.

Three different copies of Sekibanki and Kogasa appeared on the road, then disappeared before Reimu could even toss an attack toward them. A tree exploded out of the ground in front of her. She tried, and failed, to skid to a stop, only to find out it was illusionary when she plowed through it without injury. A campfire turned into a pile of snakes, which turned into a gaping pit in the ground; she was pretty sure that none of them were real, but she still gave it a wide berth just in case.

Somewhere above the mess, she spotted Nue, whirling through the air and giggling.

“Get Nue,” Reimu shouted. “I'll take care of the other two!”

“I've got a better idea!” Marisa shouted back. “You take care of Nue, and _I'll_ get the two with a bounty on 'em.”

“Is this really the time?!”

“'course it is!”

Reimu wavered for a moment. She hadn't wanted to admit it, but… twenty thousand yen could keep her finances looking good for a _long_ time. “Fine,” she said. “Fifty-fifty.”

“Hehe. Now you're speakin' my language!” Marisa leapt into the air and blasted a laser at Nue just to get her attention, and Reimu tried not to think too hard about how much food she could buy with ten thousand yen.

Sekibanki and Kogasa were a good hundred meters ahead now. Reimu stumbled past the last of the illusionary threats and managed to build up some more speed. Above her, Marisa fired off a few more lasers and Nue shot back, falling into a duel above the rooftops. Reimu grabbed a few more ofuda and lunged forward, tossing them at the fleeing pair. Three of them missed, smacking against buildings or falling to the ground. One, though, hit Sekibanki square on the back. Even so far away, Reimu could hear her yelp of pain. The two slowed down, Kogasa having to tug Sekibanki along. 

A shower of rainbow-colored streaks flashed out from behind her, as Nue made one final contribution to the chase. Again, the street burst into chaos. Illusionary objects nearly clogged it from one wall to the other, This time, Reimu decided to just push past it. She gritted her teeth and lowered her head, charging straight through a phantasmal tree, leaping over a sleeping cow that probably didn't exist, focusing on Sekibanki and Kogasa so that none of the imaginary ones could distract her.

She fished another stack of ofuda from her sleeve. Last one. Better make it count.

* * *

“A-ah, just a little more! Please hurry...!”

Kogasa really wasn't sure how to deal with all of this. She'd never really been in a serious fight in her life. She was an umbrella! Her job was to protect people and make their lives better. And, okay, scare them a little, but people didn't start fights when you scared them! Usually, at least. One or two particularly bold villagers had responded to her by drawing weapons, but nothing much ever came of it.

This was nothing like that. From the corner of her eye, Kogasa could see Reimu, still fighting her way through illusionary obstacles, implacable and unforgiving. At least she was only throwing ofuda. Kogasa had only felt her throwing needles once, and it wasn't an experience she wanted to revisit any time soon.

“My back,” Sekibanki gasped. “How does it look?”

Kogasa reluctantly slowed down just enough to peek at Sekibanki's back. It... well, it looked like the usual result of a youkai getting hit by Reimu's more powerful youkai-hunting ofuda. The ofuda she normally used in spell card duels hurt, but they didn't do much damage, a Cease & Desist letter in weapon form. These ofuda, these were more like writing a death threat on a brick and chucking it through a window. They were very _unambiguous_.

“A-ah, um, it will heal up in a few hours, probably! We just need to make it to the tomb...!”

Another fistful of ofuda slashed through the air. Kogasa tugged Sekibanki aside, avoiding them by mere centimeters. She didn't let it slow her down for long. She took another step, grabbed Sekibanki's hand and tugged her forward—

Sekibanki stumbled, and barely managed to catch herself rather than land face-first on the ground.

“Are you okay?! We really can't stay here for long...!”

“I know,” Sekibanki grunted, pushing herself upright again. “My back, it just...”

Kogasa's attention was tugged away from Sekibanki, though. From the corner of her eye, she saw another streak of red cutting through the air. Time seemed to slow down as she followed them with her eyes. One of them was headed straight toward the pair. She had time to dodge. But Sekibanki, still getting her footing again, struggling to walk...

Kogasa didn't have a moment of doubt. One instant, she was standing next to Sekibanki, watching the ofuda streak toward them. The next, her umbrella was held defensively in front of her youkai form, shielding herself and, more importantly, Sekibanki.

She managed to brace a split-second before the impact. Two ofuda slapped against her umbrella, flattening out and discharging their spiritual payloads with a muffled thunderclap. Blinding light filled her vision. The force of the impact sent her stumbling backward.

Her vision cleared just in time to see Nue toss down another rainbow fistful of chaos. Another hundred meters of street dissolved into mirages.

“Let's get going!” Kogasa shouted. She grabbed Sekibanki's hand and tugged her along again. This time, neither of them stopped until they were back to the temple.


	7. Chapter 7

In the early morning silence, the tomb was as still as... well, okay, a tomb. Sekibanki didn't have far to travel, but it felt like an eternity, creeping across the room and flinching with every sound she made. They echoed off the walls, and each one felt like a dagger jabbed into the calm. She kept her eyes on Kogasa's face as she walked. Kogasa, laying on her back rigidly straight, didn't show any sign of budging. Sekibanki still couldn't convince herself to relax until she'd knelt down by Kogasa's side.

Kogasa's umbrella was laying next to her, almost exactly parallel to her sleeping body. Sekibanki slipped it away from her and slowly eased it open. Even the gentle creaks of the bamboo made her wince. Soon, though, it was locked into place, the canopy spread open. She rested the pole on the floor, pointing the top toward her. And, only then, with the umbrella's canopy between her and Kogasa's eyes, did she raise the lantern and turn the flame up until she could see.

She ran her fingers across the paper of the umbrella. It didn't take her long to find what she'd been looking for. There were two diffuse scorch marks across the top, black smudges the size of her fist. She poked at one gingerly. The paper beneath it was still strong. A black residue came away on her fingertip, but nothing more. The only damage was a little staining.

Her conscience soothed, she braced the umbrella and folded it closed again, as smoothly and silently as she'd opened it.

It collapsed to reveal Kogasa, staring up at her with an expression of polite bewilderment. “Um,” Kogasa said. “Do you need something...?”

“Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up.”

“You, er, did pick me up and start poking me in my sleep...”

It was the closest that Sekibanki had ever heard Kogasa to being accusing. Right. It was hard to remember sometimes that the umbrella was just as much _her_ as the walking, talking bits. Now feeling like a bit of a creep, Sekibanki snapped the umbrella the rest of the way closed and handed it back to Kogasa. “You blocked one of Reimu's attacks yesterday, with your umbrella.” She glanced back to it. “... I wanted to make sure that it was alright.”

“Oh! It's fine, yep. It's the benefit of being a tsukumogami! My spirit is mostly, um... here.” Kogasa gestured down at her body. “So spiritual attacks don't do much to my regular body! If I'm really strong I can even block needles and lasers and things!”

“Convenient. … but the shrine maiden didn't just happen to shoot you. You jumped in to blocked an attack from hitting me.”

“Oh, did I...?”

“Yes.”

“Ehe.” Kogasa pushed herself up to sitting, the covers sliding off of her. At some point, she'd either snuck back to her house, or sent Nazrin to infiltrate it. Either way, the result was the same: Kogasa was now wearing a nightgown, of impossibly fine outside world cloth, with a winking cartoon pig on the front. Sekibanki wasn't sure where such a thing might come from, nor was she going to ask. “Well, maybe a little! But it's not a big deal. I didn't get hurt anyway, right?”

“You still probably saved me from getting dragged back to the Hakurei shrine for a beating.” Sekibanki sighed. She knew what she needed to say next. Saying it was the harder part. “... Kogasa?”

“Huh?”

“... I'm sorry.”

“Oh! Please don't worry about it! I mean, blocking things is basically an umbrella's job anyway, right?”

“I don't think most people expect their umbrellas to take a bullet for them.” Sekibanki lowered her gaze and tugged at her collar, hiding her own awkward expression as well as she could. She didn't have much experience at this sort of thing… where 'this sort of thing' could mean either apologies or normal social interaction. “I didn't mean for that, anyway. I mean... in general. I didn't need to be so rude to you before. Nothing that's happened has been your fault. I should have gotten angry at the youkai who are trying to get us killed, not you.”

“A-ah, well, I did bug you that one night, and we didn't have to take Kosuzu's book back...”

Sekibanki shook her head, and allowed herself a breath of relief. The hard part was over. “I can't promise I'm very good at it, but I'll try to be... nicer, from now on.”

Kogasa stared at her. Sekibanki had just enough time to notice tears glistening in the lantern light before Kogasa lunged forward, looping an arm around her in a half hug. “Thank you...! And I'll try really hard not to annoy you, I promise!”

Sekibanki reached around to give her an uncertain pat on the back. She was new at this sort of thing, too, and hugging Kogasa was extra awkward. Not just because of the way that Kogasa was already sniffling, either. The girl felt like she'd blow off in a stiff breeze. Which was… probably appropriate for an umbrella, but still made Sekibanki wonder if she needed to ask some pointed questions about her diet.

They broke the hug, and Kogasa was left staring at her, wide-eyed and teary, for a few seconds. Sekibanki glanced aside, tugging at her collar again. “I'm not sure if you can avoid annoying me, but thank you.” Afterward, she floundered searching for something to follow it up with. This whole 'apology' thing had been much less awkward when it played it out in her head.

“Since we're both awake anyway,” Sekibanki said, “we might as well figure out what we're going to do today.”

* * *

Ninety minutes later, she was waiting, and her patience was wearing thin.

“You've got to promise not to ask me where I got this...” Nue said, as she walked down the last few steps into the tomb. “But it'll solve all your problems.”

“ _All_ of them?” Kogasa said, tilting her head thoughtfully to the side. “Even the way my hair gets kind of frizzy sometimes when it rains? … that's really embarrassing for an _umbrella_ , you know...?”

“All of your problems with _the thing we were just talking about_.” Nue didn't let the interruption slow her down for long. She stepped into the tomb, raising her findings with a flourish. “Ta-da!”

It was a kimono. A white one, plain, and made of very fine silk.

Nue looked from face to face, wearing an expectant grin. When nobody responded, her expression slowly drooped. “Hey, come on! This is a goldmine, you know!”

“I'm sure it is,” Nazrin said, “but I'm not sure why we're supposed to be getting excited about a kimono.”

“It isn't just _a_ kimono. Any ol' youkai could have brought you one of those. But you're talking about me, the legendary avatar of the unknown! Who wants to take another shot? More detail this time.”

“Oh! Oh!” Kogasa raised a hand. “It's a _white_ kimono!”

“... Kogasa, you're a good friend, but sometimes I worry about your brain. Anyone else?” When there were no takers, Nue sighed and shook her head. “Come on, you guys! It's a uniform! Basically, I mean. Fancy, but understated and plain, you know? The servants in most of the big noble households dress like this. _Including_ the Hieda family.”

“Oh,” Sekibanki said.

“Oh!” Kogasa said.

They _had_ spent most of the previous hour talking about investigating the Hieda manor. It was the only lead they still really had. Whatever Seija was up to, there had to be some clues in there. The youkai posing as Akyuu was there. Seija… hopefully _wasn't_ there, at least if they were going to be having a look at the place. Having an amanojaku around never, ever improved an experience. If they wrapped this whole thing up without even seeing her again, Sekibanki wasn't going to complain.

“Yep!” Nue gave the kimono a proud pat. “Let's just say the head servant over at the Shimatani manor got really full of herself and insulted Mamizou a few weeks ago. So, I let myself into her place and borrowed a few things, and made half her clothes unidentifiable while I was at it.” Nue cackled. “They had Reimu down there exorcising socks for a day and a half!”

“I thought you didn't want us to ask how you got it,” Nazrin said.

“When somebody says that, it means 'you should definitely ask me, because it's a great story.' You should know that by now.”

“So,” Sekibanki said, trying to steer the conversation back in a productive direction, “what did you have in mind for it?”

“Well, it should be obvious, right? The Hieda place has enough servants that nobody can keep them straight anyway, and lately, I hear that it's pretty empty. It should be pretty easy for you to sneak in as long as you're dressed right.”

“Oh,” Kogasa said. “It might be kind of dangerous. It doesn't seem fair to make Sekibanki be the one to sneak in, does it?”

“I mean, I have wings,” Nue said.

“I have fuzzy ears and a tail,” Nazrin said.

Three pairs of eyes turned toward Kogasa's umbrella. Kogasa reddened.

“Just because I have an umbrella doesn't mean I couldn't sneak in! Humans use umbrellas all the time…!”

“It isn't raining,” Nazrin said.

“It's fashionable!”

“It _has a tongue_.”

“It's fashionable...” Kogasa repeated, mumbling to herself.

Sekibanki gave her a reassuring pat on the thigh. “I'm used to passing as a human, anyway. Even without any of that, I'm probably the best fit. As long as nobody recognizes me, I should be fine.”

“And if she _does_ get caught, her head comes off!” Nue said. “Think about it! They grab her arm, and her head just flies away to get help! Like those lizards where their tail falls off if something bites it.”

“Are there really lizards like that…?” Kogasa said.

“In the outside world. I always forget you guys are super behind on stuff like that.”

“Right.” Sekibanki wasn't particularly interested in learning about self-mutilating lizards. She crossed the room and picked up the kimono. “I'm going to get dressed.”

* * *

The approach to the Hieda manor felt like the longest walk of Sekibanki's life.

They'd decided that they couldn't risk anybody else seeing her flying _or_ in the company of youkai. After the first half-kilometer or so, she walked, and she walked alone… through the village where her description was still hanging on Wanted posters. She bowed her head and focused on the ground, drawing on a hundred half-remembered encounters with servants in the village. Every now and then, she dared to look up, searching the sky or the rooftops for signs of the others tailing her. Occasionally, she even spotted them, Kogasa giving her a reassuring wave or Nue making a face just to test her composure.

They couldn't risk following her on the final leg of the journey, though. That, she walked alone.

It was one of the oldest districts of the human village, on a high, defensible hill. The houses here were better described as _compounds_ , some of them containing half a dozen smaller buildings behind their walls. None of them quite compared to the Hieda manor, though. It wasn't the biggest. It wasn't the most opulent. But it had the sort of reserved, traditional presentation that said, _”We don't have anything to prove.”_

She took a breath to steel herself and stepped through the front gate. A few more seconds of walking, feeling like an exposed target in the manor's open courtyard, and she was inside the building.

The floor gave a gentle, homely creak beneath her feet. She paused to listen, and heard only silence.

Something was very wrong with the Hieda manor.

It was _empty_. Sekibanki crept down the nearest corridor, and found herself in the servants' quarters. A line of bedrooms stood unoccupied. She ducked into a few, and got the sense that they were recently abandoned. They still held the scent of people, but no more. The futons were neatly folded in the corners and they'd all been stripped of any identifying marks.

She crept past a small rock garden, no more lively than the rest of the house. She very quickly glanced over what had to be the Child of Miare's personal library—shelf after shelf of books and scrolls, with some of them so old that they looked like they'd crumble to dust at a single touch. She was going to have to hope that any clues weren't hidden in there, because it would take half a day to find them. She passed a small armory, with the first sign of recent habitation that she'd seen. Two swords had been taken from a rack that could hold ten.

She eased a door open and found a tidy study waiting. It seemed promising enough, so she slipped inside, sliding the door closed behind her. The room had almost as many reference materials as the library had, and it seemed to double as a trophy room. A letter written in indecipherable Court Tengu hung on one wall. Next to it was a paper fan, painted with a lush garden. Sekibanki spent a few seconds absorbed in the details before she noticed that the celestial body hanging in the scene's sky wasn't the moon, but the Earth.

Interesting, but not what she was here for. She kept going.

Humans were supposed to be the ones who got scared by these things, but walking past the traces of recent inhabitation without much sign of the _inhabitants_ , she couldn't help but speed up a bit. It was made worse by the fact that she wasn't, in fact, alone in the manor. She heard the occasional footstep in distant hallways, forcing her to pace herself and watch where she stepped. She crept closer, though. Soon, she could make out voices. Against her better judgment, she headed toward them.

She emerged into a kitchen big enough to feed half the village. Ovens and hearths lined one wall, across from a line of counters longer than some houses. This looked a little more encouraging, at least. The smell of food hung in the air, and there were still warm embers in one of the hearths. Far emptier than it should have been, but at least she had some sign that she wasn't hearing ghosts. Toward the back of the room, a heavy wooden door swung open into a combination pantry and storeroom. Bales of rice were stacked along one wall, with casks of sake next to them, a few slabs of cured meat hanging from the ceiling, jars of pickled vegetables stacked on shelves, and sacks of fresh vegetables piled along the wall. It was enough food to feed an entire household through a lean winter.

… but it didn't look like the work of a family that was preparing for a feast.

It was an interesting find, but not exactly the smoking gun that she'd been hoping for. So, Sekibanki made her way back out of the kitchen and headed toward the voices.

It didn't take long to find them.

She'd been in the living quarters and servants' areas before. Now, drawing up to the center of the manor, she stepped up to a doorway and found… nothing.

Well, almost nothing. All the screens that had partitioned the manor's living areas into smaller sections had been removed, leaving a single grand hall in the middle. It felt cavernously empty for its size, holding nothing but five massive tables standing in parallel.

And, two figures, walking between them. It was only pure luck that they were facing the other direction when Sekibanki peeked in.

She jerked back and flattened herself against the wall. Fortunately, they didn't seem to have noticed her.

One of them spoke, her voice just slightly too quiet to make out.

The voice that responded was Seija's. “Yeah,” she said. “Flower arrangements in the middles. Each table will be twenty humans on one side and twenty youkai on the other.”

The first voice spoke again. Sekibanki leaned toward the doorway, but still couldn't quite make out her words.

“Yaeka. You're impersonating the richest person in the village,” Seija said, clearly annoyed. “If they say they can't deliver on time, offer them more. No reason not to spend it all anyway.”

 _Yaeka_. Well, at least she'd learned one thing—fat lot of good it did her though, since the name wasn't familiar. There was another response that Sekibanki couldn't quite make out. She muttered under her breath in annoyance. She wasn't going to be able to learn much like this. Unless…

Reluctantly, Sekibanki concentrated, making another copy of her head. She took it in her hands and held her breath, trying to get some sense of where the two youkai were. And, when she sensed that she had an opening, she darted out and pushed her second head around the corner.

The room was practically as tall as it was wide, with broad rafters criss-crossing it a meter or so above eye level. She quickly hovered up into their cover, willing herself to disappear into shadows. Only after a few more seconds passed without either of them noticing her did she dare to creep forward, bobbing from the cover of rafter to rafter. Finally, she was able to look down and eavesdrop on the pair from above.

“… the servants?” Seija finished some question that Sekibanki had been too distracted to hear. “None of them suspected anything, did they?”

“Oh, even if they did, I don't think that they'll tell anybody.” The voice that answered Seija was familiar, now. It was the voice of the girl who'd confronted them at the rental library, and the voice that had given the speech in the village—Hieda no Akyuu. Or, the youkai disguised as her, at least. Here, without no audience to worry about fooling, her mannerisms were rather different. “Most of them have been serving the Hieda family for years. If I'd asked them to murder each other, they would have just asked me what weapons I wanted them to use.”

“That doesn't sound like a half-bad way to spend an evening...” Seija mused. “Easier if they're loyal, anyway. We'll need to have a few youkai standing guard, and I don't want anybody asking too many questions.”

“Are _guards_ really necessary? It's going to be a hundred youkai versus a hundred unarmed villagers. I think we can keep them under control.”

Seija grunted. Even without seeing her expression, Sekibanki could feel the dismissive scorn radiating off of her. “The humans aren't going to relax unless they think we're taking some precautions. And it only takes one person escaping to spill half our identities. Once the shrine maiden starts hunting for us, we lose strength in numbers.”

The two passed by beneath Sekibanki, giving her another brief glimpse of them. She eased back into the shadow of a rafter.

“The ones standing guard won't get to eat much. I can't see why anybody would want the job.”

“We'll give them the pick of the litter or something. We'll figure something out.”

“Besides, we have bigger worries than one or two humans running away, don't we? There's the screaming, once the eating starts. I wouldn't be surprised if they could hear it all the way down at the river.”

“By the time the eating starts, it'll be too late.” Sekibanki could practically see the predatory grin on Seija's face. “You're thinking about it all wrong. That's a bonus. You want to put fear back into the humans? That's what will do it. Not skulking around eating them in the dark. Doing it in the middle of their village, and letting everybody know it's happening.”

“Yes, but—“ The two rounded a corner and came into view again. This time, Sekibanki didn't move quite quickly enough. She felt Akyuu's—Yaeka's, apparently—gaze on her, even as she darted aside into another hiding spot.

“But what?” Seija said, sounding annoyed at the pause.

A few seconds passed in silence. Sekibanki went very, very still, and tried to reassure herself that she was only imagining she could hear her heart beating from all the way across the room. Finally, another footstep announced that Yaeka had started moving again. “... even so, if we get interrupted by the shrine maiden halfway through, it won't make for much of a revolution.”

“It takes forty minutes to get to the shrine, and that's in the daytime. Even if the whole village heard and set out to get her, we'd be gone by the time she showed up.”

“Mmh.” Yaeka sounded disinterested—distracted. Sekibanki barely even had time to be worried by the implications before Yaeka lunged forward into view, with far more agility than the real Akyuu could ever manage. This time, she locked eyes with Sekibanki. “... ah.”

There was no time to react. Sekibanki had barely opened her mouth to stammer an excuse before everything went to hell. Yaeka moved in a blur. A magical projectile flashed from her hand.

Sekibanki's world exploded into white light and numbing pain. Her mind felt like a vase that somebody had smashed down to powder. Through the chaos and the nothingness, she could just barely make out movement around her... and only dimly, after a second or so, realized that it wasn't everything else moving, but _her_ , as her head bounced and rolled to a stop along the floor.

Straining, she scraped together every ounce of concentration she had, forcing her consciousness back over to her body.

She immediately felt a million times better, even though her injured head was still screaming for attention in the periphery. Her thoughts slowly came unscrambled. Her vision cleared.

Just in time to see the very strange sight of Akyuu reaching up to hoist her by her collar. “Oh,” Yaeka said. “I don't think we've been properly acquainted.”

Sekibanki's head was still swimming. Stringing words together was hard. The fact that her collar was digging into her throat certainly wasn't helping matters. “We've met,” she rasped.

“Oh, yes, I know. We did have to spend half an hour or so talking about your description to make those wanted posters.” Yaeka hefted her even higher, seeming to stretch farther than her tiny, frail-looking body should even be capable of. “Would you do me a solid and point me to your friends? It would save me quite a headache.”

Sekibanki stiffened up and squirmed, thrashing with as much force as she could muster. She didn't accomplish much except making herself swing in Yaeka's grasp, only making it even harder to breathe.

“Come on, now,” Yaeka said. “Don't be shy. Wouldn't want to get blood on your pretty outfit, would we?”

Sekibanki clawed at Yaeka's hands, without much effect. She was just starting to consider an attack when a different plan struck her. A different, dumb plan that she would never, ever admit that Nue had given to her.

She popped her head off. Without a chin to support her, lifting her by the collar didn't work very well. Sekibanki fell within the garment, until her armpits caught on the sleeves—the loose, flowing sleeves of a kimono. She flailed, momentarily suspended by her arms. She planted a firm kick on Yaeka's body. And, she stumbled backward, slipping out of the garment just as Yaeka recovered from her surprise. A clawed hand swiped through the air where Sekibanki had been a moment earlier.

Sekibanki came to a stop, wobbling as she yanked her head back into position on her shoulders. She was left wearing nothing but the innermost layer of the kimono. Not exactly her first choice of outfit—if she made it outdoors, she was going to look like she was running in a bathrobe at best—but it was a heck of a lot better than being throttled by a tanuki.

Yaeka gave her a look somewhere between amusement and annoyance. “Oh, you aren't running?” She tossed the garment to the side.

“There isn't a shrine maiden here, and your amanojaku friend doesn't seem interested in helping you. You might have chased Kogasa off earlier, but I'm a rokurokubi.” Sekibanki drew herself up to her full height, her eyes flaring red. She raised a hand to her side to spread her cape, and was disappointed by the reminder that the outfit didn't have one. Humans just had no sense for fashion. “I promise you that I won't scare so easily.”

“Oh, I see.” Yaeka grinned. Now, between the dainty lips of Hieda no Akyuu, Sekibanki could just make out a set of very, very pointy teeth. “You did forget something, though.”

Sekibanki knew from the tone of Yaeka's voice that she really didn't want to play this game, but some instincts were hard to suppress. “What's that?” she asked, even as she started bracing herself for an attack.

“I trained under Danzaburou herself.”

Sekibanki didn't really _see_ the attack that followed. Fortunately, she'd already been primed to jump backward, and she did just that, as an orange-and-black paw the size of a skillet slashed through the air where she'd been moments before. By the time it slammed onto the floor, the rest of Yaeka's body was quickly following it on a journey from 'Hieda no Akyuu' to 'tiger.'

“A-ah.”

Sekibanki's sense of self-preservation tugged her pride aside and gave it a very quick talk on the virtues of having one's arms still attached. And, throwing out a wild spray of bullets like a squid shooting ink, she turned and scrambled down the hallway.

“Whhat's wrrrrongh?” Yaeka growled through a mouth that was increasingly unsuited for speech. Footsteps thundered after Sekibanki, growing heavier with every step. “Stand yourrrrr grround and—rrgh—f-fight!”

Yaeka grew closer, and closer, until Sekibanki imagined that she could feel the tiger's breath on her back. She leaned forward, urging every muscle into motion. Coming up on an intersection in the hallway, she grabbed the post on one corner, helping her swing through a ninety degree turn without slowing down.

From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Yaeka—a pile of fur, muscle, and claw, the size of a cottage. (Were actual tigers that big?! She was going to have to show Shou some more respect if so.) Such a massive creature couldn't take corners easily. Claws the size of daggers ripped up the tatami mats as she struggled for traction. But not long enough. By the time she slammed up against the wall, she'd already redirected most of her momentum.

The footsteps were gaining again. But it had given Sekibanki a plan, at least. She ducked aside, throwing open a door and scrambling into the room beyond. A tidy parlor awaited her; a vase of flowers wobbled and fell over as she sprang across the table. That was nothing compared to what came in her wake—Yaeka somehow leapt through the doorway without slowing down, but bumped into practically everything in the room in the process. Her size was only an advantage in the open corridors.

Out in the far hallway, she looped around, taking a hairpin turn and darting into the adjacent reading room. Yaeka thundered through it, scattering books of poetry in her wake.

She dared to run ten meters down a corridor; for her trouble, Yaeka was able to get close enough to slash a swatch of cloth from the back of her clothes. She ducked through another room, emerged into the first hallway again... and found herself mere meters from the mansion's front door.

Sekibanki struggled toward it. The longer she ran, the more her body resisted her. Her vision blurred. _The other head_ , she realized. She wasn't going to escape her injury that easily. Her other head was an anchor weighing her consciousness down, and her every step pulled the chain more taut.

Her legs faltered, but she managed to throw open the door, sprinting into open air. She caught a hazy glimpse of Yaeka behind her. That tiger body charged forward, as implacable as a boulder rolling down a hill... until suddenly, it wasn't. Her feet pedaled against her motion, claws digging into the floor to stop herself. By the time she screeched to a halt in the doorway, she was disguised as Akyuu again, transformed so quickly that her robes swayed from the momentum.

They were still trying to keep their plan secret. No matter what they had planned, she'd blow her cover if she charged into the village as a monster.

Not that Sekibanki dared to slow down just yet. She made it just past the manor's gate, and Kogasa and Nue rushed out to greet her. They ended up catching her as she collapsed forward, her body no longer quite listening to her after carrying her so far.

“The feast,” she murmured. “The humans they're inviting. They're going to eat them all.”

* * *

Being an amanojaku was tough in the best of times, but today, it was downright unbearable.

Killing a human, setting a temple on fire—these things were wicked, but they were _nothing_. Any human child could pull them off, with a little cleverness and a lot of spine. They were beneath Seija. An amanojaku was meant to break the resolution of monks and whisper treachery into the ears of kings. Mere wickedness would never do. True satisfaction came from turning somebody's emotions into a dagger, and letting them realize they'd been betrayed at the exact moment it slipped between their ribs.

It took some planning to pull off that kind of thing, but planning hadn't been going well for Seija lately. Yesterday's speech hadn't been received as well as she'd hoped. The preparations for it, days of sticking by Yaeka's side and supervising her Akyuu impersonation, had left her sick and tired of the charade. Seija got sick of everyone, sooner or later. Especially, it turned out, when they were a smug, overconfident tanuki, so certain she'd figured everything out that she never stopped to _think_.

And now she'd let the rokurokubi escape.

“There aren't many things that can outrun a tiger,” Yaeka said, with a begrudging half-shrug. “She's still a fugitive, anyway. Does it really matter what she heard?”

“She heard a lot. Might've been everything. Just because she's a fugitive doesn't mean she can't talk to anybody. And now you ripped up half the manor, so anybody who comes by asking questions will find a lot more to get curious about.”

“It was hardly _half_ the manor. And a few tatami can easily be replaced—“

“Then I suggest you get somebody up here and make sure that happens.”

Seija turned and walked away before Yaeka could retort. And before she could say anything more, herself. Just a few more days until the feast. She could warm herself over burning bridges _then_.

She made her way back through the manor, across ripped floors and through abandoned parlors. As she walked, she tried to pretend that she didn't welcome the sight, just a little. These pristine, elegant corridors were sickening. Some violence and trauma suited them well. More than that, though, amanojaku thrived on conflict and hatred. In the best of times, when everything was going well, she had to choke back the urge to self-sabotage. A little strife kept things running smoothly.

She arrived back in their newly-converted feasthall. She didn't have to look long. There, against a table leg, laid something matted and bloody.

She planted a foot on it and gave it a shove. It rolled over.

Sekibanki's face stared blankly into the air, somewhere between stunned and dead. The head had seen better days. She'd gotten a few bruises and scratches in her fall from the rafters, her hair was mussed, and Yaeka's attack had left a scorch mark up her cheek. The spot where the attack was landed was blackened and crispy, but fresh, pink flesh was already knitting it together. Which meant...

Seija had to search through the nearby rooms for a few minutes before she found what she was looking for—a burlap sack of vegetables, fresh from the pantry. She dragged a sharp nail across the side, slicing it open and pouring the contents to the floor.

She brought the now-empty bag back with her. In her other hand, she lifted the head by a handful of hair.

It stirred. Sekibanki's eyes fluttered. She was in a stupor, her eyes glazed and her jaw sagging, but she managed to murmur, “What...? Who are you...?”

Seija pulled back the hood of her human disguise, letting Sekibanki get a good look at her, and flashed a sharp-toothed smile. “Call me a friend,” she said, and dropped the head into the bag.


	8. Chapter 8

Everything was dark.

Outside of the sack, Sekibanki could hear noises—the rattling of carriage wheels, conversation that was just a little too muffled to make out the words. It was obvious that Seija was taking her captured head somewhere. Where they were going, though, was another question entirely. It was definitely outside of the village. She could feel her body, distant and only growing more so, through a connection like an increasingly strained rubber band.

She was just going to have to hope that it didn't break.

The carriage rattled to a stop. Somebody lifted the bag, leaving her head rolling around on the bottom. “Almost there,” Seija said, clearly relishing the discomfort that she'd inflicted. “Have you out of that thing in no time.”

The sound of footsteps announced that they were moving again, but it didn't last long this time. A door opened. There was more muffled conversation. Something rattled.

Sekibanki was tossed onto a hard surface. She rolled, and rebounded off an equally hard wall that rattled on impact. “Come on out,” Seija's voice announced from somewhere outside the sack. “I have a proposal for you.”

Sekibanki grumbled under her breath, but slowly hovered upward. The sack fell away from her head, until she emerged into light again. After half an hour wrapped in burlap, she needed to squint. Between the wound on her cheek and the distance between her two heads, that wasn't exactly her primary concern. She head a splitting headache, and her thoughts felt like they were percolating down through a layer of tar. She'd live, for now, but she might wish she hadn't.

They were in a tiny room, barely more than a closet. Light shined in through a tiny window near the ceiling, but any hope it gave her was quickly quashed—her head wouldn't fit through it, even if she could find some way to get it open. Sekibanki herself was sitting atop a small table that was otherwise crammed with tools. More importantly, she was in a cage. A _bird_ cage.

Seija loomed over her. “Comfy?” She gave the cage a shove just to rattle it.

“Not really.” Sekibanki hovered backward, putting as much room between them as the cage would allow. “What do you want?”

“Never a good question to ask an amanojaku. They just might give you a straight answer.” Seija flashed a frankly unpleasant smile, then tugged a chair over and took a seat, bringing the two closer to eye level. “I'm not going to lie, I was pretty pissed when I realized you'd been eavesdropping on us. With the stuff you heard, you could probably blow the whole thing open. Of course...” She gave one of the cage's bars a flick with her fingertip. “I'm pretty sure you're smart enough to realize that sending the shrine maiden here would be pretty reckless when we've got hostages. And your head.”

“I'm... well aware.”

“You did pretty good to manage it, though. I hadn't expected expected somebody to be dumb enough to break into the Hieda place. Seeing as you're here and you outsmarted me... I want to make you a deal.”

“A deal,” Sekibanki repeated dryly.

“That's right. I offered it to that umbrella girl before, but she didn't have enough sense to take it. It's simple—I want you to join us.”

“And why should I do that?”

“The only reason you're against us is that you don't know what we're about. Can't see eye to eye if you don't even give us a chance.”

“You made me into an outlaw before I had much reason to 'give you a chance.' Besides. I heard your plans. I don't think I'm interested in helping you murder villagers.”

“'Murder.'” Seija scoffed. “Youkai eat humans every day, you know.”

“Not villagers. Outsiders.”

“That's the problem.” Seija walked back and forth as she spoke, pacing the tiny room like a predator looking for its moment to strike. “Ever since that spell card system came around, the humans in Gensokyo have been too cocky. They aren't afraid of us. Some shrine maiden barely as old as the dirt under my fingernails makes a threat, and half the youkai whimper like whipped dogs. That seem like any way to live, to you?”

Sekibanki rocked her head back, resting it against the rear of the cage and making it a little easier to keep her expression neutral. “Do you have a point?”

“You're a youkai. Doesn't that piss you off?”

“I'm a rokurokubi,” Sekibanki said flatly. “I've spent my entire life well aware that the humans will wipe me out if I make one wrong move.”

It apparently wasn't the answer Seija was looking for. The surprise was enough to leave her speechless for a moment, until she continued with renewed annoyance. “And you don't want to get even with them for that?”

“Murdering a hundred people to soothe your own ego isn't really what I'd call 'getting even.'”

Seija's smile returned with a vengeance. “You're not looking at the big picture. These people at the banquet—it isn't a bunch of nobodies. Dunno if you caught the speech back there, but it's invite-only. A real who's who of the human village, all the nobles and big business owners. Except, no youkai exterminators, nobody who's got even a whiff of magic in them. A single night, and the village loses every leader they have. Sends a message, you know? 'Doesn't matter how strong she is, one little girl can't keep you safe from _us_.'”

Sekibanki stared at her, incredulous. Even among the kind of youkai who ate people, it wasn't common to hear them talking about murder so casually. “... until she starts exterminating you the next day. It isn't the kind of thing she'd forgive, you know. You... you wouldn't even be helping _youkai_ with a plan like that. Before Gensokyo—“

Seija scoffed and raised a cloth, draping it across the cage. The outside world vanished. “You've got until tomorrow morning to make a decision. Think about it this way—Gensokyo's full of predators and prey. I'd think _really_ hard about what side I want to be on, if I were you.”

* * *

“How does a youkai get this heavy? This girl has to eat bricks or something.”

“She does have a really nice garden! Um, I mean, it _looks_ nice, at least. I've never actually grown anything...”

“You'd need to eat a lot of veggies to get this hefty. I'm sticking with bricks.”

Sekibanki drifted back to awareness slowly, like she was struggling her way back from a concussion. Her head felt like it was filled with soup. It was rolled back, bouncing along with every movement of her body… and there was a lot of movement. She was surrounded by darkness, bouncing every second or so as she descended the stairs into the tomb. On her sides, Kogasa and Nue were cooperating to barely carry her between them.

She stirred, giving an arm a tug. Kogasa froze, then released it. “Oh! You're okay!”

“Uh? Of course I'm—“ She'd needed Kogasa's support, it turned out. Without it, she slouched down, stumbling down a few stairs before Nue yanked her to a stop.

“Hey, come on!” Nue shouted. “We've been carrying you for forty minutes! … if somebody gets to throw you down a flight of stairs, it should be _me_.”

“Sorry. Sorry.” Sekibanki steadied herself and straightened up. It took a few seconds longer for Nue to release her, letting her take stock of herself.

She was in one piece… on this end, at least. Overall, not quite as much, since she could still feel her kidnapped head tugging on her consciousness in the distance. The last few bits of her mind were still trickling over, but all the important pieces were present. “I'm fine,” she said, in a not-entirely-convincing tone. “I can walk.”

“Really?” Nue said. “Seems to me like we just hauled you halfway across Gensokyo because you couldn't. You're welcome, by the way.”

“Are you okay?” Kogasa hurried forward to give her a worried inspection. “You just sort of stopped moving back there, and we weren't sure what happened, so…!”

Sekibanki rubbed her forehead. The injury was on her other head, but it seemed like the splitting headache was with her for good. It figured. “They shot my head and took it,” she said. Nue opened her mouth for a wisecrack, and Sekibanki quickly added, “My _other_ head.”

Nue couldn't hide her disappointment. “Can't walk and talk at the same time, huh?”

“It's hard enough controlling multiple heads at once. Doing it when they're this far apart is...”

“Like cooking dinner with your head in one room and your hands in the next?”

“... close enough.”

“Oh! That does sound pretty awful...” Kogasa rested a steadying hand on Sekibanki's shoulder. “Will you be okay?! Is there anything we can do to help?”

“I'll be fine,” Sekibanki muttered. “I've had worse.”

Kogasa didn't look convinced. It didn't help that when they reached the bottom of the stairs, Sekibanki barely managed to take four steps before she slumped down to lean against the wall. “... I did learn what they're up to, at least.”

“What, really?” Nue stepped forward, leaning over her with renewed interest. “What is it?”

“She's getting all of the most influential humans in one place, and she's going to let youkai eat them. To put fear back into humans or something.”

A moment passed in silence. Kogasa said, “That isn't very nice...”

“I think that's the idea.”

“We… we have to stop her!”

Sekibanki really, _really_ wanted to say 'no we don't.' Truly and deeply, down in her bones. Getting involved this much had been a mistake to begin with, and throwing themselves into the middle of it would just be that much worse. But…

“If everything goes the way she expects, it will be like the old days again. Humans and youkai killing each other over nothing.” Sekibanki sighed. “… so yes. I suppose we do.”

“Right!”

“And, er.” Nue looked between the two of them. “Just how do you plan on doing that? All those youkai coming to the feast are probably on her side, right?”

“And she's holding one of my heads hostage,” Sekibanki added. “We don't need to think of anything right now, anyway.” She slid further down the wall, and carefully crept across the floor until she could slump down onto her blanket. “I… think I need some rest first.”

* * *

“Heeey! Akyuu, are you around?”

Marisa had made her landing in the central yard of the Hieda manor, a place so scenic and carefully rustic that she could practically smell the money wafting off of it. After skipping across the tiny bridge that crossed the koi pond, fussing with a lock for a few minutes, and slipping inside, she found herself peering down a hallway longer than most buildings in Gensokyo.

It was empty. Marisa had only been inside the Hieda manor a few times in her life, but the place usually had at least a few servants bustling about at all hours of the day. Right now, though, she couldn't hear much movement throughout the place. It sent a thoughtful little twinge through her. If there wasn't much here for her to investigate, surely Akyuu wouldn't mind if she grabbed a few souvenirs. As rich as she was, she probably wouldn't even notice.

“Yo, Akyuu! If you're here, I'm givin' ya until the count of five, alright? One… two… three...”

A door toward the end of the hall slid open. Akyuu stepped out, looking slightly annoyed. “I'm here,” she said. “I see that you've already let yourself in.”

“Ah, yeah, sorry. I knocked, but the servants didn't show up. I was afraid you might've been in trouble.” Every bit of the sentence was a lie, but Akyuu didn't need to know that.

“Well, as you can see, I'm not. Can I help you?”

“Nothin' major, really. I've just been looking into the whole mess with Kosuzu. There's a few things that're still confusing to me.”

“Such as...?”

“Well, like that youkai that showed up at your speech yesterday. That was Sekibanki. Why would she show her face when there's a bounty out for her, d'you think?”

“Who knows. Maybe she was trying to kill the only witness.”

“Seems pretty reckless. She's usually a pretty careful youkai.”

“Then it was strange for her to eat Kosuzu to begin with, wasn't it? One more strange thing isn't that odd.”

“You might have a point. Not even the only strange thing I've heard of lately.” Marisa stepped forward and idly swung her broom up over her shoulders, glancing around the empty corridor. “This place seems pretty deserted.”

“What about it?”

“Well, word around town is that you laid off most of your servants, huh? People who've worked for your family for generations suddenly out the door, the way I hear it.”

“I did, yes.”

“So what's the deal?”

“If the servants I let go are gossiping about it, that just goes to show that I was right to get rid of them. As I'm sure you understand, after being attacked and nearly abducted by youkai, I felt like it was necessary to surround myself with only those servants that I can trust.”

“Ah, I gotcha.” Marisa stretched, slipping a yawn out, and kept her voice carefully casual as she added, “Like that lady in the hood that's been following you around?”

A brief look of surprise flashed across Akyuu's face. She missed a beat before answering, “Like her, yes.”

“Funny thing is, I asked some of the servants you laid off, and none of them even knew her name. Said they didn't remember seeing her before a couple weeks ago.”

Akyuu reddened slightly. “She's my personal assistant. I don't need to announce every hiring decision I make.”

“I guess not. So what's her name?”

Akyuu stared at her. “Excuse me?”

“Her name. Everybody's gotta have a name, right?”

Akyuu's cheeks darkened even more. “I don't see why that's any of your business.”

“It's not a big deal, is it? Maybe I wanna make her a birthday card.”

“Her name is… Kotone Iida.”

“'zat 'koto' with the character for 'harp' or the one for 'song'?”

“The one for harp.”

“Related to Mr. Iida up on the hill? With the farm?” Marisa asked, her grin spreading.

“I wouldn't know,” Akyuu answered tersely.

“Oh, while I'm at it, just in the interest of being thorough and all... some of the neighbors said they'd heard a bit of a ruckus up here earlier. Everything okay?”

This time, Akyuu froze up. She obviously hadn't been expecting that question. “... a servant cut herself while preparing dinner. It took her a few minutes to calm down.” She stepped forward, resting a hand on Marisa's arm and ushering her toward the door. “Now, I should really get back to what I was doing. Is there anything else you'd like to clear up before I show you out?”

“Nah, I think that covers it. Oh, before I go, I figured I should warn you to keep an eye out. Me and Reimu are still figuring out what's goin' on, but we've got a suspicion that those youkai that took Kosuzu have friends in the village.” Marisa turned her head just enough to monitor Akyuu's expression from the corner of her eye. “Don't quite have enough proof to start exterminating just yet, but here's hopin', right?”

“Of course,” Akyuu said coolly. “You'll be the first to know if I need a youkai exterminator. … have a good evening, Miss Kirisame.”

Akyuu closed the door behind Marisa so quickly that it almost slammed. Marisa took a few steps before she slipped her hand from her pocket and released the mini-hakkero, after keeping it at the ready for the whole conversation.

Sekibanki's insistence that they'd been framed, only to show up again during the speech. Kosuzu's strangely bloodless disappearance. Akyuu's altogether weird behavior. It didn't really take an experienced youkai exterminator to realize that something was very wrong with this whole situation.

The talk hadn't proven quite as many suspicions as she'd hoped, but youkai hunting wouldn't be any fun if it was that easy. Besides, she'd gotten a lead, at least. It seemed like a good time to ask Mr. Iida if he remembered having a cousin Kotone. If Akyuu had outright lied... well, life was going to become even more interesting.

* * *

Sleeping was easier said than done.

Resting was hard with two heads to begin with. It was even harder when one of those heads was sitting a few kilometers away, on the floor of a not-particularly-comfortable bird cage. Sekibanki started drifting off, only for her jaw to ache on the other side and tug her attention away. By the time she dealt with that, her leg had fallen asleep from laying in the same position for half an hour. In the back of her mind, she was worrying about everything that was happening—for all she knew, tomorrow morning, Seija could rescind her offer and split her head in half then and there. With an amanojaku, that was one of the _nicer_ possibilities.

And all through it, the splitting headache persisted.

Her consciousness bounced back and forth between her skulls like a broken metronome. It made it hard to keep track of the time. At some point, though, it returned to her body and she felt something warm pressed up against her back.

She tried to look back over her shoulder, but that turned out to be a terrible idea. She had one hell of a cramp from sleeping on the floor, and in the total darkness, she couldn't see anyway. Process of elimination, though, was pretty quick when there was only one possibility. “… Kogasa?”

Next to her in the darkness, Kogasa stiffened up in surprise. “Oh. Um. Good evening.”

“What are you doing?”

Even in the darkness, Sekibanki could sense her glancing aside sheepishly. “I'm sorry! You were making these noises that sounded like you weren't feeling very good, and you wouldn't answer when I said anything… I was worried about you.”

“So you decided to climb into bed with me.”

“Hugs always make me feel better! … and you fell asleep without a blanket on. Miss Byakuren says that's a good way to catch a cold.”

“I don't think that's my biggest worry right now.”

“I guess not, huh...” A pause. “Um, I can move away if you want...”

Sekibanki stared into the darkness, thinking good and long about how she wanted to respond to that. She had to admit, she needed all the comfort she could get right now. Her every last nerve was tense and ragged, stretched doing double duty over the long, long distance between her two heads. Kogasa's warmth was a welcome contrast to the cold of the tomb. In, she had to admit, more ways than one. “It's... fine.”

Kogasa nodded against her back. A short while passed in silence before she spoke again. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I won't die. It's... like I said earlier. My attention is stretched between two places. The farther away my other head is, the harder it is for me to concentrate or relax. If it went too far...” Sekibanki trailed off. “I'd rather not find out what happens.”

“Oh... it's kind of like that with me and my human shape, too. I get really weak if they're too far apart. Except with me, it hurts if it's more than a few meters. If it gets too far, I think I might disappear for a while. Or maybe I'd die?”

“You don't know?”

“Nope. … it's, um, a little hard to test, you know?”

“I suppose it would be. That sounds pretty inconvenient.”

“It isn't that bad! Having a human shape is pretty nice, actually. It helps me get around, and I can talk to people and stuff! … but, um.” When Kogasa spoke again, her voice was lower, quiet and ashamed. “I guess the reason I'm over here is that I... feel pretty bad about you getting hurt.”

“It wasn't your fault.”

“No, but...! Um. Well, you were right before. It's... kinda my fault that you're in this situation. If I hadn't bugged you, you'd still be at home relaxing, but instead you're sleeping in a tomb with a scary youkai holding your head hostage...”

Sekibanki opened her mouth to respond, but she couldn't quite decide what to say. Her first impulse was to agree. She _had_ spent the first day or so angry at Kogasa for dragging her into this. She couldn't stay angry at her now, though. And yet, despite these thoughts, the thing that pushed itself to her lips was the pettiest thought on her mind.

“... I'm still not sure if hugging me while I sleep is the solution.”

“Sorry....” Kogasa sounded like a kid who'd been caught with her hand in a cookie jar. “I thought it would feel nice. I can stop if you want...”

“No, er, it feels nice. It's just a little weird. … but nice.”

“Oh!” Kogasa's whole body stiffened up in in excitement behind her. “There's another thing I could do! I just remembered!”

“What is it?”

“Here, um...”

Kogasa awkwardly shifted out of position behind Sekibanki. Sekibanki could hear her rearranging herself in the darkness. When she approached again, she cupped the side of Sekibanki's head with a hand and coaxed it up from the floor. Sekibanki complied, confused. A few seconds later, the warm, soft surface of Kogasa's lap slipped into place beneath her head, a natural pillow.

Sekibanki stared up into the darkness, speechless. “A-ah?”

“Humans do this for each other sometimes when they can't sleep, right?” Kogasa's hand strayed up to Sekibanki's hair, stroking it. She hummed a few bars of a lullaby.

“I think this is something they mostly do for children,” Sekibanki said, her voice taut.

“Oh, is it...? I can stop if you want...”

Sekibanki felt her blush returning with a vengeance. When was the last time she'd even touched somebody, let alone done something like this? But, she had to admit, warm human contact was a lot nicer than the cavern floor. She gave her head a gentle shake. “It's... fine. Try to get some rest yourself, though, okay?”

* * *

Sekibanki awoke to light.

Near-blinding light, actually. She squinted against it, and the edge of the glare slowly faded until she could make out the general details. She was seeing the world through her head in the bird cage. The towel that Seija had thrown over it had slipped down overnight, and the room's single, narrow window was placed just right for the morning sun to shine directly in her face.

She levitated up from the cage's floor, and immediately regretted it. Her injury felt like it had knit together a bit overnight, but it still felt like an iron rod jammed through her cheek, stiff and cold and making everything around it ache. Her two heads played tug-of-war with her consciousness, until she tugged it back in this direction. She felt crappy enough without trying to focus on two viewpoints at once. As blood slowly pumped back in to the parts of her face that had fallen asleep after resting on the cage floor all night, she considered her options. If she could manage to push her nose between the bars, she just might be able to work the latch free. Demeaning, yes, but she didn't have a lot of options. She could almost definitely knock the cage off the shelf if she flew into the wall, but that would just leave her in a cage on the _floor_. She didn't feel very good about beating a hole in the cage with her face, either. It seemed like a fight that the cage would win.

She was considering how likely it was that she could summon up the energy to try melting the bars with danmaku projectiles… when footsteps approached the door. Her first instinct was to hide every sign of her escape plans, but with no arms or legs, she hadn't exactly accomplished much.

“Rise and shine,” Seija called through the door. It opened, and she was soon looming over the cage, her white dress nearly glowing in the direct sunlight. Sekibanki squinted against it, but even then, Seija's confident grin was pretty self-evident. “That was nine hours. Plenty of time for you think about where you want things to go from here.”

“Whether I want to join your little conspiracy to eat villagers, you mean.”

“You've got it.”

“Rokurokubi aren't man-eaters, you know.”

“Never a bad time to start.” Seija's smile grew sharper for a moment. It seemed to be her equivalent of laughing at her own joke. “Like I said before, the real purpose here is to put humans back in their place. We can all agree on that. You don't want to eat people, you can still do your part guarding at the banquet. And hey, added bonus: if you decide to join today, I won't have to waste twenty minutes trying to find something that can cave in a rokurokubi skull. Assuming I don't decide to keep you around to suffer for a few days first. Haven't really made up my mind, if I'm being honest.”

Even without a body, Sekibanki somehow managed to shiver. Seija had made the threat so casually, there was no way to know whether she was joking or not. Coming from an amanojaku, there probably wasn't much difference, anyway. Fortunately, she'd already decided on her response. “It isn't like you've let me much choice,” she said, glancing thoughtfully toward the window. “I'll hear you out.”


	9. Chapter 9

Every time Sekibanki's mind drifted from one head to the other, the process felt slower and more awkward. This time, she could practically feel her awareness shifting over drop by drop. For a few seconds, her world consisted of nothing but a splitting headache. The pain slowly dulled, muffled under a few new layers of sensory information: a cold stone floor pressed to her back, shallow breaths sliding in and out of her lungs, the sound of conversation around her. And, finally, her body, responding to her probing thoughts with a twitch of recognition.

She flooded back into her body and pushed herself from the floor, coughing and clutching the side of her still-aching head.

“Oh!” Kogasa's voice came from behind her. Her hands settled onto Sekibanki's shoulders, steadying her. “Are you okay?! I was really worried!”

“It's just… hard to move back and forth, this far away. I'm fine.”

“Are you?” Nue's voice came from above. A brief glance upward revealed that she was sitting on the Shotoku statue in the center of the chamber, her legs slung over his shoulders and her arms folded atop his head, like he was giving her a very casual piggyback ride. “You look even worse than you did yesterday. Like, 20% worse, maybe.”

“I said I'm fine,” Sekibanki grumbled. She pushed her hair back out of her face, and noted with annoyance that her hands were shaking. She really needed to get her heads reunited as soon as possible. Too much longer like this, and she wasn't sure what would happen. “What time is it?”

“A bit after dawn,” Nue said, “but you passed out pretty early last night. You were out for a long time. I was starting to tell Kogasa that we should just ditch your body in the river and make a break for it.”

“I was still _breathing_. That means I'm alive.”

“I know.” Nue grinned. “That's what makes it funny.”

“A-ah, um!” Kogasa hurriedly shifted her posture to more fully insert herself between the two, breaking their eye contact. “Nobody was actually going to throw you in a river! I knew you were just feeling bad because of your missing head, like last night! … and if you actually did die, I'd make sure to give you the right kind of burial. Like. Um.”

Sekibanki looked at her expectantly. “Like...?”

“... I'm not actually sure how you bury people! If you were a tool, I'd take you apart and set you on fire, but...”

“Eh, that's close enough,” Nue said. “So hey, your other head's still with that amanojaku, right? Any news from that end?”

“Unfortunately. She's still holding it hostage.” Sekibanki patted the floor until she found her discarded hair ribbon, then started gathering her hair into a bundle. She'd been hoping a little deliberate movement might help steady her hands, but no such luck so far. “And... we only have a couple of days to stop her. We don't have much time before that banquet.”

“Oh! Oh! I just thought of something! You said that she took you somewhere outside the village, right? Maybe that's where Kosuzu and Miss Mamizou are too!”

“Probably. I didn't ask.” Sekibanki trailed off as she fumbled with the ribbon some more. She had just enough control to get it halfway into a bow before it started falling apart. She grumbled under her breath. “I do have an idea. Or a plan, I guess. It's a bit of a long shot, but I think it's—“

The ribbon slipped out of her fingers again. She grumbled under her breath. This time, Kogasa gave an excited little hop behind her. “Oh! Let me!”

Before Sekibanki could protest, Kogasa knelt down behind her and scooped the ribbon up. Within a few seconds, Kogasa's slender hands were in her hair.

“Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you!” Kogasa said. “You were saying?”

Nue grinned. “Not sure she can talk right now. She looks like she might pass out.”

“Pass out...? Oh! Oh no! Is the stuff with your head getting worse?!”

“It's... it's fine.” Sekibanki lowered her head and tugged her collar up over her reddening cheeks. She cleared her throat, and over a few seconds, somehow managed to steer her thoughts back on track. “For now, I've bought a little time. I'm... letting Seija try to convince me to join her.”

“Side with the man-eating rebels, eh?” Nue said. “I guess that's one solution.”

Sekibanki stared up at her. “Are you physically incapable of being serious for more than ten seconds at a time, or is it deliberate?”

“Eh, I dunno. It comes and goes. So what's this plan of yours?”

Sekibanki opened her mouth to respond, but didn't get any farther before Kogasa tugged on her ribbon, pulling it into a broad bow behind her head. “There!” Kogasa said. “Is that good?”

Normally, Sekibanki would check her own appearance by popping out another head for a quick look. Right now, a third head seemed like the last thing she needed. She ran her fingers over the bow and gave it a few tugs to adjust it. “That's fine, yes,” she said, and breathed a sigh of relief as Kogasa slipped away from her back. It was much, much easier to concentrate without Kogasa up against her. … at least, apart from a very few select topics. “… anyway. I can feel where my head is. It's like any other body part, you know? Even if you can't see it, you can sense where it is. I think I could find the place, and I doubt they're expecting us. If we can sneak in, we might be able to get my head back. Maybe we could even find where they're keeping those humans.”

“How about a better plan?” Nue said. “Sneak around and find the place, then come back and tell us, and we have Shou charge in and kick their butts. Or, heck, send somebody to tell the shrine maiden. Let her take care of it.”

Sekibanki considered that. It sounded so, so very tempting. All she wanted to do right now was lay down and sleep for another twelve hours or so, and maybe get an ice pack for her aching head. Except… “They still have those human captives,” she said. “And Seija threatened to use them as hostages if she realizes that something is happening.”

“Oh,” Nue said. “Damn.”

“Yeah.”

“So what happens your way? You get inside, and then what? She has a hundred youkai or whatever working for her, right? If the place is crawling with guards, are you really going to try sneaking in to steal your head back?”

“Either way, we can't do anything until we know where the place is.” Sekibanki took a step toward the stairway to the surface, then hesitated, looking back toward Nue. “I think it's to the southeast, toward the ravine. I really don't know what kind of place it is or how many guards Seija has posted, so... if we aren't back tomorrow, I guess we'll be counting on you.”

* * *

The Gensokyo Carnivore Club was, in its own way, an elite society.

Seija had spent months recruiting the members, but in her near-exile from society, time was the only resource she had. She'd approached outcast and radical alike, everybody who'd ended up with a reason to look at the current state of affairs and think, We could do better. It hadn't been easy. Half of the youkai she'd approached were still too complacent to accept, married to the current state of affairs. A few had kicked her ass the moment she'd hinted at her plans. From the remainder, hard work and perseverance had stitched together an organization that just might manage to fulfill her goals, against all odds.

For now, her reward for this was a giant headache.

“Ma'am!” A tiny youkai—tsukumogami? Fairy? She hadn't bothered to remember most of their faces, let alone their species—exclaimed, “We've posted guards like you said! And! Nobody's around.”

“Then maybe instead of coming down here to report that, you should stick up there and keep looking.”

Seija shot the tiny youkai a look that made it clear that it was less of a suggestion than it was an order. The youkai still lingered for a second while her tiny brain came to grips with that. “O-oh! Right! I'm on it!”

The youkai scrambled off, and Seija allowed herself to relax a little, muttering and rubbing her forehead. Her followers weren't exactly diamonds in the rough. They were, in the context of that metaphor, particularly dull rocks. The smart recruits had seen the flaws with her plan and stayed away. She preferred not to work with the smart ones anyway—smart youkai made poor victims for cons. The merely _mediocre_ ones just weren't good candidates, because they didn't have enough setting them apart from the status quo. That left her with the misfits—youkai with egos the size of mountains, youkai who were violent without purpose, youkai who were so dim and backward that they barely realized the Hakurei Barrier had been erected and still ate any human they wandered across.

The handful who could handle themselves and pass as human, those were working within the village as spies or on preparations for the feast. The rest of them, the misfits, were coordinated here, in the headquarters. Or, at least, calling it the 'headquarters' made it sound more impressive. In practice, it was a long-abandoned warehouse, donated by the sole kappa recruit.

She managed to avoid any more annoying interruptions as she made her way into the grid of smaller storerooms near the back of the place. In one room was their makeshift prison, In another, much smaller room, she'd stashed Sekibanki's head.

She headed to the latter. When she walked in, Sekibanki seemed to be sleeping. Her head was laying on the floor of the cage, rocked to the side and resting against the bars.

Seija picked the whole thing up and gave it a shake. She didn't bother to hide the pleasure she got from watching the head bounce around like a loose pinball. “There we go. Had to make some last-minute preparations. Ready for your introduction tour?”

* * *

The spot that Sekibanki had guided them to was a few kilometers outside the village, where the foothills of Youkai Mountain tapered off into grassland. There wasn't much to see out here. A few footpaths snaked between far-strung settlements. A kilometer or so to the west, the terrain grew rockier and the river dipped deeper into the ground, sinking down to form Genbu Ravine. But right at their current location, there wasn't much to see except sparse forest and the confluence of a few rivers. The territories of half a dozen groups of youkai intersected in this area, and it was close enough to the village that humans weren't unheard of, either. It wasn't worth anybody's time to be the one to start settling the place and upset the balance.

As they'd approached, Sekibanki had gone into a daze, her attention tugged away to her other head. They were close enough now that it hadn't quite been enough to stop her. She'd trundled along, stumbling across the landscape, and Kogasa was just barely able to steer her with an arm on her back. It wasn't quite the ideal situation, but they were under a time limit now—the quicker they got to Seija's hideout, the less likely she'd be expecting them.

It was just a little quiet and lonely. So, the moment that Sekibanki's eyelids started fluttering with awareness again, Kogasa noticed.

“Welcome back!”

“Thanks.” Sekibanki let out a few soft coughs and rubbed her head, glancing around. “You stopped...?”

“I stopped! I think I found the place, actually?”

Sekibanki followed Kogasa gaze toward the distance, and slowly rose up to keep over the foliage.

Kogasa didn't follow her, but she'd spent the past few minutes risking short glances, so she knew what Sekibanki was seeing. They were only about twenty meters from a squat building made of washed-out green-and-grey stone that blended in with the surroundings from a distance. A few pipes, as thick as Kogasa's waist, ran from one wall down toward the river. The place was obviously kappa-made. More importantly...

“Oh,” Sekibanki said. “There aren't many youkai around.”

“Yep! I thought the place was abandoned until I saw a couple of them leave. Maybe they really aren't expecting anybody to try sneaking in!”

“It's a bit busier inside. I guess they want to keep a low profile. Hopefully we can sneak in, look for the humans, and get out without attracting too much attention.”

“Right! I saw a door around the side where we can probably sneak in! But, um. Your attention got pulled away earlier... is everything okay?”

“Seija came to give me her sales pitch.”

“Oh! Did you find anything out?”

“I found out that talking to an amanojaku is annoying. … it will be hard for me to do much while I'm talking to Seija, but I'm not sure I want to see what she'll do when it's obvious that I'm not joining her.” Sekibanki sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “If I go with you, do you think that you could guide me? With my heads this close together, I can split my attention, but... it's still hard to walk and talk in two different rooms at the same time.”

“Guide you...? Like, pull you around once we're inside?”

“More or less. … I don't think that the youkai working for Seija out here are that well-informed. If you just walk right in, they'll probably assume you're on their side.”

“Oh... that's kind of a big risk, though, huh?”

“We're already taking a big risk by being here in the first place.” Sekibanki rose to standing and offered an arm to Kogasa. “I guess I'll be in your care.”

“Right!”

Kogasa hooked her arm around Sekibanki's. Sekibanki's eyes glazed over, her attention shifting back to her other head. It didn't last long. A second or two later, she focused again, looking back to Kogasa. “... and, er, Kogasa?”

“Huh?”

“... be careful, okay?” After the words were out of her mouth, Sekibanki hesitated for a moment, like she was considering saying more. Her expression went blank again without another word.

* * *

Sekibanki's vision blurred as she swapped between viewpoints. Now that her heads were a few dozen meters of each other, it was a much smoother process. She still missed the first few words of whatever sentence Seija was saying.

“... headquarters. I don't figure you'll be seeing much of it, really.”

Seija hadn't trusted her quite enough to let her out of the cage yet, and the cage swung side to side with each step Seija took, a view that threatened to give Sekibanki seasickness. Not that there was much to look at. Seija's so-called 'headquarters' didn't look like much except a big, mostly empty building. A few other youkai came and went occasionally, but they all gave Seija a wide berth, whether out of deference or... the fact that she was Seija. Sekibanki would be happier if she was never within a hundred meters of an amanojaku again, herself.

Not that she had much say in the matter. Under the circumstances, she'd assigned herself the worst role she could think of—distracting Seija while Kogasa hopefully snuck in. “It doesn't look like much.”

“We aren't what you'd call a long-term kind of organization. We're going to throw the feast, eat the humans, and go our separate ways. The only reason we even need a headquarters is to have a few big meetings to coordinate things. Lucky for me, we have a kappa who knew about this old storehouse we could use.”

A kappa... if kappa were involved, that could be bad. A bunch of loner youkai like Seija deciding to stage a revolt was one thing. If one of the major species started getting ideas along those lines, things could actually get serious. Sekibanki just counted herself lucky that she hadn't seen any tengu among the passing faces yet. “How many of you—er, us—are there?”

“Eighty or ninety. The idea isn't to eat half the village, it's to eat enough of them to send a message to the village and wake up the other youkai. Once we do our thing, we'll have more friends than we know what to do with.”

“You really think that many other youkai would go along with this?”

“Everybody remembers how good it was before the Hakurei shrine maidens started pushing us around. Back when a youkai could sneak up on a human and rip them apart, then and there, and not care about witnesses. The good old days, you know?”

* * *

“Oh... this place feels kind of creepy, doesn't it?”

Kogasa glanced expectantly to Sekibanki. Sekibanki, shuffling along distractedly next to her, didn't answer. She'd been right about being able to handle walking, at least—she mostly took care of steering around obstacles herself, and when she didn't, it only took a light tug to get her to change her direction. Focused on some distant conversation, though, she wasn't much of a conversationalist. It left them walking down the hallway in silence, their footsteps echoing from hard concrete walls.

Kogasa would have liked some conversation to distract her. This place felt... forlorn.

The warehouse had sat unused for years, if not decades. She just _knew_ it. The barren metal shelves, the stacks of crates in the corners, the crowbars and hand trucks that were scattered around—they'd all been made with a purpose in mind, and they all resonated with frustration at being denied it. It wasn't a strong feeling. They all had decades to go before they might become tsukumogami, and their mass-produced souls were only faint, distant sparks right now. But they were there.

She made a mental note to grab one of the friendlier-seeming crowbars on her way back out. The thought distracted her just enough that she almost didn't notice that voices were approaching down a nearby intersection.

The hallway behind her was short and straight, without much cover. There were the crates and hand trucks, but they weren't about to conceal her unless she spent ten minutes stacking them up. She did not have ten minutes. She had, if she was lucky, ten seconds.

Their plan had counted on any youkai they encountered mistaking them for normal members of the group. But now, she realized, she wouldn't have any explanation if they asked what she was doing.

She looked around frantically. A few wooden crates were piled along one wall. She hefted one up and shoved it into Sekibanki's hands, guiding them into place until she grabbed on and started carrying it. She grabbed one for herself, too, then continued down the hall, looking straight ahead and trying to look very busy.

She crossed the intersection. From the corner of her eye, she saw the group of youkai that had been approaching. All three were beast youkai, fuzzy ears and fluffy tails giving them away at a glance. All three also turned to watch them curiously. She kept her eyes straight ahead and willed them to look away. One of them called out, “Hey, hold up!”

Kogasa gave Sekibanki a nudge to spur her into moving faster, and picked up her own pace to match.

“Hey, whoa! I said stop!”

Kogasa sped up even more, bracing herself for the moment their cover was blown. With Sekibanki's attention still in another room, she wasn't going to be able to take off running. She'd have to stand and fight, at least until Sekibanki realized that something was amiss. Three against one didn't seem like very good odds, though...

One of the youkai was hurrying after them, her footsteps pounding on the floor. “Hey!” she called, as she approached. Kogasa braced herself for an attack. “Is that stuff for the feast?”

Kogasa stumbled to a stop. She looked down to the crate in her hands. “... stuff for the feast?”

“You know, chopsticks, tablecloths,” the youkai sighed, in a tone that suggested that her meaning really should have been obvious. “That stuff's supposed to be going to that mansion in the village, but it's been coming here all day instead. Whoever's giving the orders in the village is a frickin' dumbass.”

“O-oh...!” Kogasa slowly turned around, and gave Sekibanki a nudge to do the same. Sekibanki stumbled slightly, and bumped into the wall before she managed the turn. Kogasa smiled more widely to try pretending that this was entirely normal. “That's right! It's... napkins and things! Oh, wow, I guess I'm really far away, huh? I'll have to hurry to get them there on time!”

“... I mean, it's still two days until the feast. Not _that_ important.” The youkai took a step closer. Her two friends drifted along behind her. “We've got a big load of that stuff we're hauling in tomorrow, anyway. I can show you where to drop it off, if you want.”

“A-ah, um, well! Actually! They told me that these napkins were... for the prisoners! So maybe you could show me to the prison instead?”

“I don't think the prisoners need napkins.” The youkai stepped closer and peered over the crate. Her gaze drifted toward Sekibanki. “What's with your friend? Doesn't she talk?”

“Talk...? Oh! Actually. She's, um, she's a jiang-shi! They're really dumb! _Super_ dumb!”

Another of the youkai stepped forward, peering up at Sekibanki. “I've never heard of that kind of youkai...”

“They're super-dangerous too! They can eat anything! … and if you try to fight them, you'll get tired before you beat them up!” Kogasa was running low on her admittedly small pool of jiang-shi knowledge.

“She doesn't _look_ dangerous.” The first youkai rose up on her tiptoes, leaning in to grab Sekibanki's head. She tugged it back and forth, shaking her in place, and shouted, “Hey! Lady! Wake up! I've got some questions for—!”

Sekibanki's head popped off in her hands.

“Um,” the youkai said.

“U-um!” Kogasa said. “She's kind of falling apart?”

* * *

Sekibanki avoided Seija's gaze, struggling to hide her growing unease with her plans. It wasn't easy. She'd never been much of an actress. She was barely much of a _conversationalist_. But, if she couldn't convince Seija that she was truly interested, she wasn't likely to get out of this building alive, let alone stop it.

“Er, so, this banquet is soon, right?”

“Two days. The invitations started going out last night. Tomorrow we spend most of the day setting up for the banquet, and the day after...” Seija's eyes turned down toward Sekibanki, and she grinned. “Well, you have good timing. Joining right at the tail end of the whole thing. You'll get all the results for half the work.”

“Yeah, really lucky for me.” Sekibanki was too disgusted to even pretend to not be sarcastic. “And what do I do in the meantime?”

“Well, can't find much work for a head. Tonight we'll work out some way for you to get your body here, and—“

“Miss Seija!” A youkai shouted from across the room, running toward them at full speed. She barely managed to stop herself before she plowed into them. She was left gasping for air, but managed to squeeze a few words out. “I-it's an emergency! I need to... talk to you.” She eyed Sekibanki's head. “... in private, maybe?”

Seija gave an expression somewhere between a grimace and a smile. “Looks like I'll need a few minutes. Sure you don't mind, right?”

“Take all the time that you need,” Sekibanki said, trying very hard to sound disinterested.

“Real generous of you.”

Seija sat the cage with Sekibanki's head on a nearby table and followed the little youkai off. They were well out of hearing range before they started talking.

It was probably for the better. If it was unwelcome news, there wasn't much Sekibanki could do but wait for the fallout.

* * *

The three youkai stared at Sekibanki's decapitated head.

“A-ah, you should really put it back on!” Kogasa said, so desperate that she almost started waving her arms before she remembered that there was a crate in them. “Jiang-shi are super powerful! And they, um, they'll haunt you until you die! And...!”

“Uh-huh.” The youkai who was holding Sekibanki's head poked her cheek a few times. “I mean. I guess she's gotta be a youkai if her head comes off like this, but—“

Sekibanki's eyes opened up. She blinked in confusion at the scene above her, then lunged forward to chomp down on the youkai's poking finger.

The youkai gave a yelp and stumbled backward, wild-eyed and clutching the finger. “It's still alive?!”

“You, um...! You've invoked her wrath!” Kogasa shouted. “So! Actually! … can you please tell us where the prisoners are at?”

The three youkai stared back at her. “The... prisoners?” one asked, bewildered.

“Right! I said that's where we were going, right? So can you please give us directions? Or... or she'll curse you for the rest of your lives!”

Sekibanki, taking the hint, levitated higher. Her eyes glowed a ghostly red, and phantasmal blood started dripping from the severed stump of her neck.

One of the youkai audibly gulped. “Th-the prison's back through that hallway to your left! It's the third door past the intersection!”

“Thank you! … now... BEGONE!” Kogasa couldn't quite make her voice boom like Sekibanki's had before, but she did her best.

It was apparently enough. The three youkai squealed in unison, then turned and scrambled off, almost tripping over each other in the process. “And don't tell anybody else, okay?” Kogasa shouted after them. “Or you'll be, um, double-cursed!” It seemed important to keep up the charade as long as possible.

Sekibanki's head drooped back down, coughing as she pulled it back onto her neck. “What was that about?”

“Oh, they were just asking me some questions. I think it went pretty well! I got directions to the prison, after all.”

“That girl's finger tasted horrible. I think she's overdue for a bath.” Sekibanki rolled her shoulders, and a few final popping noises announced that her head was attached again. “I don't have long. Seija got pulled away for something, and I... don't really like the feel of it. Whatever you're going to do, we should probably try to make it quick.”

“Understood! I'll try to rescue them really quick!”

“Good. It's just—” Sekibanki's eyes briefly glazed over. “Sorry, I need to go. Be careful, okay?”

A neutral, half-limp expression announced that Sekibanki's attention had shifted back to her other head. Kogasa ditched their crates and tugged Sekibanki off toward the cells, as quickly as she could guide her.

Somewhere far behind her in the hallways, she could hear footsteps heading her way. She really liked to think that they were unrelated.

* * *

“Sorry about that,” Seija said, with a smile that suggested that she wasn't the least bit sorry, but knew that Sekibanki wouldn't call her on it. “Just a few details that needed worked out.” She lifted the cage again. “So, any final questions?”

It took a few seconds for Sekibanki to get herself back into the right headspace. Switching between conversations was disorienting. “Er, well. … assuming that you do succeed—er that we succeed, what then? You can't just expect every youkai in Gensokyo to forget the last twenty years and start eating villagers.”

“Why not? Half of them already want to. Humans are the only ones who get anything out of the way things are right now.” Seija nodded to another youkai as they passed, then glanced back to Sekibanki. “Besides, once a few of them go down, the humans won't give up easily. When the Hakurei shrine maiden's running around exterminating anybody who looks halfway suspicious, they'll remember who their real friends are.”

“Anybody who's lucky enough to not be exterminated, at least.”

“Can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs.” Seija seemed a bit too pleased at the idea. “You're still asking a lot of questions, though. What, still aren't sold on it?”

“It's a long shot.” Sekibanki chose her words very carefully, and her gaze drifted to the side as she spoke. The groups of youkai moving around the room were more... orderly now. Urgent. Groups of three or four were heading out toward the back of the warehouse. She searched her memory desperately for some hint of where Kogasa had been when she'd found her. She quickly turned her eyes forward again and tried to reassure herself that it could be pure coincidence. Right now, her job was preventing Seija from getting suspicious. “A-ah, but it will be great if it works. It's about time that somebody, er, put some fear back into the humans.”

“Oh hey, that's great. That means the umbrella youkai you brought here is on the same page too, right?”

Sekibanki took a second to desperately try to convince herself that she hadn't heard what she thought she had. It didn't work very well. “It isn't—a-ah, just because we were at that bookstore together doesn't mean—“

“Got to admit, I only posted some lookouts so we'd have a bit of warning if you sent the shrine maiden this way. I didn't think you'd be tricky enough to sneak in yourself. Guards weren't even sure they were supposed to be keeping watch for other youkai.” Seija's smile widened; never a good thing to see from an amanojaku. “Want to tell me where she's at, or am I going to have to guess?”

* * *

“Miss Kogasa!”

Kogasa had barely stepped through the doorway into the prison room before Kosuzu was up against the bars, bouncing with excitement. “Did you come to save us?!”

“A little quieter, please!” Kogasa held a finger to her lips, and released Sekibanki's arm once they were in the room. “Um, I'm not sure if I have a lot of time. Do you know how to open that cell?”

“There's a key,” Akyuu said, stepping up alongside Kosuzu. “They keep it in one of the drawers on that desk.”

A desk sat in the corner, outside the cells. Kogasa wasted no time in crouching down to dig through its drawers. Stained and mildewed blueprints, rusted tools, faded outside world oil cans... it didn't look like it had been used much since the kappa had abandoned this place.

“Kogasa?” Mamizou's voice came from a plastic box, which was itself sitting in an otherwise-empty cell. “How'd you get wrapped up in this?”

“She's the youkai that was helping me before!” Kosuzu said. “We almost escaped together.”

“'Almost' doesn't count for much.”

Sekibanki looked toward Mamizou. “... locked up in a box inside a cell. They must not like you.”

“Hard to keep a tanuki imprisoned. Making them be this careful just goes to show how good I am at breakin' out, you know.”

“Uh-huh.”

Footsteps were audible down the hallway now. _Lots_ of footsteps. Kogasa stopped, looking up from her search to eye the door. Whoever was out there was definitely moving closer.

“Keep looking,” Sekibanki said. “I'll try to hold them off.“

The door flew open, and a youkai loomed in the doorway. Tall, beefy, and muscular—most of Seija's followers were pretty scrawny, and it was easy to see why she'd chosen this particular specimen to be her muscle. A clawed hand gripped the doorway, and she slipped inside.

“Boss figured you might've headed this way. Here's how it's gonna be.” The youkai stepped forward again, unfolding to her full height once she was inside. Her furry ears nearly brushed the ceiling. “I get the two of you into that cell, I get double portions at the banquet.” Her face split into a pointy-toothed grin. “If you fight back and I have to throw whatever's left of you in there, I get triple portions.”

Sekibanki took a step back, bracing herself for a fight even though she looked very uncertain of her odds. “This doesn't concern you. Stay back, or—“

She trailed off, as a few more sets of hurried footsteps approached down the hallway. Three more youkai skidded to a stop behind the other. They were now thoroughly cornered and outnumbered.

“Oh,” said Sekibanki.


	10. Chapter 10

“Oh, yep, I was right! Do you see these scratches up the sides of the bars? That's because kappa polish their big metalworking pieces with a pretty coarse abrasive.” Kogasa ran her fingers along one of the bars and gave it a firm tug, delighted by its complete lack of give. “It's really solid work!”

“So what you're saying,” Sekibanki said, tiredly, “is that we're stuck in here.”

“Oh... yeah, I think so. It's some nice craftsmanship, though!”

Kogasa gave the cell's bars a final appreciative pat and stepped back. Only now, after five minutes in the tiny prison, did she notice that nobody else had found her assessment of its materials quite as interesting as she had. Kosuzu and Akyuu, in the adjacent cell, had mostly given up on paying attention to her. Sekibanki looked vaguely annoyed, and Mamizou... well, Mamizou was a plump, fuzzy tanuki about half a meter tall. As part of imprisoning the two of them, the guards had moved her tiny carrier outside of the cells, leaving her sitting a couple of meters away. The extra distance really didn't help with reading her expression.

“No harm in having a look,” Mamizou reassured her. “Only, remember, me and the girls have been here a few days now.”

“Oh... oh! That means you've had time to come up with a really good escape plan, right?”

“Not hardly. Mostly it means we've had a lot of time to stew on it and haven't come up with anything.” Mamizou yawned and stretched out in her carrier, flopping forward and extending two furry paws. “Like you said, this place is kappa-made. I make a policy of not trusting kappa farther than I can throw them, myself, but they know their way around a set of tools.”

“Oh...”

“How did you end up here in the first place?” Akyuu asked. “... were you here on a rescue attempt?”

“Seija... brought one of my heads here,” Sekibanki said. “That was enough for me to find the place. We tried to sneak in. It didn't quite work.”

Kosuzu frowned at this, and only looked more concerned after a few seconds of thought. “ _One_ of your heads...? Um.”

Sekibanki stared at her through the bars between the cells. Kosuzu stared blankly back.

Sekibanki reached up, grabbed her head, and popped it off.

Kosuzu screamed. Akyuu clamped a hand over her mouth. “Not so loud!”

Kosuzu continued giving muffled protests. Over a few seconds, they tapered off, and Akyuu reluctantly removed her hand. Kosuzu gasped for air, then squeaked out, “I didn't know she was a... ghost or something!”

“She's a rokurokubi,” Akyuu said. “She caused some trouble a while back, but she's been well-behaved since then. We let her live in the village as long as she behaves herself.”

“... there are youkai living in the village...?”

A low chuckle came from Mamizou's direction. “Kid still has a lot to learn, doesn't she?”

“Ah, Sekibanki's nice!” Kogasa said. “... well, um, okay, sometimes she can be kind of grumpy, but she won't eat you or anything!”

Kosuzu didn't look convinced. “She's the one who made all of those creepy flying heads...?”

“I scared you,” Sekibanki said. “Just be glad that I'm not the kind of youkai who would eat you on the spot, instead.”

Kosuzu froze in terror, the color slowly draining from her face. She shrank back from the bars.

“A-ah, anyway!” Kogasa said. “... we should probably keep looking for a way out, right?”

* * *

Sekibanki and Kogasa kept trying new escape attempts until it was too dark to see. By the next afternoon, Sekibanki understood why the other prisoners hadn't been very enthusiastic about them.

They tried chipping away chunks of the floor around the base of the bars. They hovered up and spent an hour trying the same thing with the bars of the cell's single tiny window. They tried scorching the walls and bars with magical attacks, but neither of them could do much more than the flashy lights of danmaku. Kogasa managed to summon a light rain, which accomplished nothing except making them soggy for the next few hours.

They slept. In the morning, the guards begrudgingly brought them a meal. They tried bending the bars by squeezing them with a piece of cloth, which Kosuzu insisted had worked in some book she'd read, and didn't accomplish much except nearly tearing Sekibanki's cape. They took a break and joined the others in idling the hours away. They made small talk until it became maddeningly repetitive. Kosuzu got Akyuu and Mamizou to tell a few stories from their long lives, which thankfully ate up most of an hour. They played shiritori, and gave up when it became obvious that Akyuu was unbeatable. They played roshambo, which Mamizou managed to participate in despite only having paws. They took a nap. Kosuzu spent half an hour asking increasingly curious questions about Sekibanki's detachable head. They talked more. The guards brought another meal.

And, Mamizou managed to sweet-talk one of the guards into a single minor concession.

“Okay...” Kosuzu squinted down at the battlefield laid out on the floor. “Then I'll take... this one!”

She plucked a card from the floor, where several others were carefully arranged around the base of the bars, accessible to both cells. After flipping over the next card from the deck, she frowned at them thoughtfully. “I can't do anything with it,” she said, and tossed it down with the others.

“Oh! Oh!” Kogasa barely gave the new card time to settle to the floor before she slapped another card on top of it. “Three ribbons! That's a really good combo, right?”

“Only if they're all blue or poetry ribbons,” Akyuu said. “Normal ribbons aren't a set until seven.”

“Oh.”

“Even if they were,” Mamizou said, without looking up from her position lounging in her cage, “you'd be better off waitin', with that kind of luck. The other lights're still in the deck, so your odds of gettin' a shikou are pretty good with a hand like that.”

“It isn't like we're gambling for actual money,” Akyuu said. After a second, she added, “Although if we were, I'd be up by about five hundred yen.”

Kogasa pouted, but paired the card with another from the table, flipped another from the deck, and ended her turn. “... you sure do know a lot about this stuff, Miss Mamizou.”

Mamizou yawned toothily and stretched. “Lady's got to be able to take care of herself if she stumbles into a den of iniquity.”

“Right...” Sekibanki's turn was up. She squinted down at the variety of cards spread out in front of her, trying to remember what they all meant. She'd noticed that Akyuu kept snatching up cards with animals on them, but she couldn't remember if those _did_ anything. It was nice that Mamizou had been able to get the deck for them, but she was turning out to be pretty bad at this game. Plus, all of the cards smelled like one too many nights of drunken gambling.

Before she could decide what to play, footsteps approached down the hallway.

“Two humans and three youkai,” Seija said, stepping into the room. “I'd thought that two cells would be plenty when we got this place, but it's looking kind of full.”

The card game was immediately forgotten. One by one, the cell's occupants rose to standing. Nobody wanted to be stuck looking up to an amanojaku.

“Save the gloating, kiddo,” Mamizou said. “You need something?”

“Tomorrow's looking like a pretty busy day. Figured I'd stop in and say goodbye before I leave.”

“E-even if we're in here...!” Kosuzu leaned up against the wall of her cell, thrusting an accusing finger between the bars. “You won't get away with it! Miss Reimu will definitely track you down, you know...!”

Seija shrugged. “Probably. Most ways that it can shake out are okay with me.”

There was a moment of silence. “That,” Mamizou said, “don't make a lick of sense.”

It was obvious that Seija had been hoping somebody would challenge her. A hint of a smile tugged at her lips. “Think about it this way: If the shrine maiden _does_ catch on and start hunting people down afterward, what happens?”

“You will have killed a hundred innocent people,” Akyuu said, in a tired, lecturing tone that suggested she knew that trying to shame an amanojaku was a waste of time, but couldn't stop herself anyway. “... and Reimu will come exterminate all of you once she catches on, even if it takes her a month to track you down.”

“Sounds about right. But what then? This isn't some normal incident. A hundred humans dead, and eaten in the middle of the village where everyone can hear them scream. A hundred youkai fugitives scattered all over, and the shrine maiden rampaging across the countryside not even sure who she's supposed to be fighting. Can you even imagine what that'll be like? I give it a week until half of Gensokyo's pissed off and shouting for blood.”

“It would... be a mess, yes,” Akyuu conceded. She sounded like she was transitioning into interview mode. “I'm not sure how that's supposed to help you, though.”

“We get that far along, the whole thing is probably one good punch away from starting a war.” Seija was growing excited now, a grin spreading on her face. “Nice, huh? Gensokyo's been peaceful for way too long. This whole spell card system—humans and youkai pretending to get along, everybody playing nice—it's disgusting. A bunch of self-righteous monsters holding hands with their prey, and as soon as one person rocks the boat, half of Gensokyo comes down on their head. If I can burn _that_ down, it's a way bigger win than just eating a few humans.”

“Seems like a pretty convenient philosophy, comin' from someone who got hunted down by half of Gensokyo,” Mamizou said.

Seija ignored her. Sekibanki stepped closer to the bars. “And the youkai who are following you—you just run away and let them get exterminated?”

“It's what they're there for. A hundred gullible idiots, tearing up half of Gensokyo fighting the shrine maiden and trying to eat more humans.” Seija gripped the bars and leaned in to add, “A revolution needs a few martyrs, you know.”

Sekibanki held her gaze. Seija's eyes didn't show a hint of remorse. Only dull, bitter hatred toward the entire world. If she somehow succeeded beyond her wildest dreams and sparked an actual war between humans and youkai, Seija would be standing in the best vantage point, grinning and enjoying the show.

Reflexively, Sekibanki pulled her fist back and slammed it directly into Seija's face.

The punch landed with enough force that _something_ popped inside Sekibanki's hand. Seija stumbled backward, clutching her nose. Blood welled past her fingers.

For a moment, the room was completely silent. Then, Seija chuckled under her breath. “Hah!” She pulled her hand away and flicked some blood from it. After her initial shock, her smile returned, taking on a manic quality as more blood dripped down over her lip. “Not bad, not bad! Disgust and outrage, just the way I like it.” She leaned in against the cell's wall, shoving her head through the bars and grinning. “Go on, do that again. I'll give you a free one.”

“I wouldn't start beating up an amanojaku if I were you,” Akyuu remarked. She had one arm draped over Kosuzu's back, trying to keep the other girl from having a meltdown over the strangeness of the past few minutes. “It gets strange quickly, as I understand it.”

“I wasn't planning on it anyway.” Sekibanki rubbed her knuckles, frowning behind her collar. “It's too rough on my knuckles. … if I wanted to do it again, I'd shoot her instead.”

Seija actually looked disappointed. She pulled away from the cell and swiped the blood from her nose. “Real pity. It's hard to get good hatred like that these days. Just one more reason to get youkai and humans at each other's throats again, I guess.”

“Y'made your point,” Mamizou griped. “Don't you have a big feast to be preparing for?”

Seija flicked some of the blood away, giving a satisfied sigh. “Point is, as long as the feast happens, I win. Except, I still need to keep an eye out for the shrine maiden. So, I'm thinking...” She produced a key, raised in one hand. “... I could use some insurance.”

“Um,” Kogasa said, “What do you...?”

She trailed off without finishing her question, as the answer became apparent. Seija walked up to Akyuu and Kosuzu's cage and slipped the key into the door.

Kosuzu scrambled backward until she was pressed to the wall. Akyuu stood her ground.

“What are you doing?!” Sekibanki demanded.

“She wants me.” Akyuu breathed out a soft sigh, a self-effacing _I really should have seen this coming_ sort of grimace on her face. “As a hostage, I assume.”

“Or human shield,” Seija said. “Whichever comes up first, really.”

“N-no! You can't...! You can't take her!” Kosuzu looked wildly from Akyuu to Mamizou to Sekibanki. When it became obvious that none of them were going to be able to intervene, she charged forward, scooping a plate from the floor and swinging it at Seija.

The plate smashed harmlessly against the size of Seija's head. Kosuzu froze up, realizing the depth of her mistake. Seija flicked her hand in a bored gesture, and Kosuzu flipped over in the air, sent tumbling head over heels. “Beating up a helpless kid isn't actually that fun for me,” Seija said. “Stay down and we'll both be happier.”

Akyuu shot Seija a steely glare, but followed it with a slight nod. “Don't get yourself hurt for my sake, Kosuzu.”

“But...! She's going to—!”

“Even if she kills me, I'll be back in a hundred years. Nothing you can do is even going to slow down a youkai, anyway.”

“Smart kid,” Seija said. It didn't seem like Kosuzu was listening to her, though. She pushed herself up from the floor, groaning and rubbing at a fresh bruise on her forehead. Seija studied her for a few seconds, like a child watching an ant fry under a magnifying glass, before pulling out a length of rope and binding Akyuu's wrists.

“Y-you can't just do that!” Kogasa shouted. “She's the Child of Miare! That's, like, really important!”

“I know. That's what makes her such a good hostage.” Seija finished up her work, and gave Kosuzu a halfhearted kick toward the back of the cell before dragging Akyuu out the door. After locking it, she added, “Probably not going to have time to come visit for a while. Nothing personal, you know. … might ask the guards to come by and check on you in a few days. Who knows?” She met Sekibanki's gaze. “Maybe you'll get hungry enough to eat that librarian girl in the meantime.”

And then, she was gone.

* * *

Kosuzu sobbed long into the night. When she drifted off, though, it was almost worse. The place seemed far too quiet.

The other youkai, Seija's followers, seemed to be emptying out. It made sense. By this time tomorrow, they'd have accomplished their goal—or Seija's goal, at least. Only a skeleton crew was left behind to guard the prisoners. Sekibanki almost would have preferred to hear more of them out there. The silence left her alone with her thoughts, and she had plenty of them. Most of them were along the lines of _how could I have been so reckless_ , but there was the occasional _maybe they'll kill us quickly and get it over with_ mixed in there.

Sleep wasn't going to be easy to come by, at this rate.

She stared up into the darkness. The prison cell was darker than the tomb had ever been—and not metaphorically either. Their captors hadn't seen fit to provide a lantern, and the place didn't exactly have a lot of windows. Only the feeling of the cold floor against her back and the steady rhythm of a few people breathing convinced her that she hadn't already died.

“Um, Sekibanki?” Kogasa's voice whispered from the nearby darkness. “Are you still awake?”

“Mmh? Yeah, I am.”

Even in the total darkness, she could sense Kogasa recoiling, hesitant to impose too much by continuing. Some things never changed. “... If you don't mind, can we talk?”

“Er.” In Sekibanki's limited experience, somebody saying 'can we talk' was almost always the opening of a long and difficult conversation. “Well, it isn't like I have anything better to do. About what?”

“Oh. Um, it doesn't have to be about anything in particular. Just, I'm... not very good at sitting around and not moving.”

Sekibanki thought back to the night this whole mess had started. “... I'm well aware.”

“Oh, no, I mean more, um...” Kogasa shifted around in place. “When I was abandoned, before I became a youkai... I spent a really, really long time sitting around, and I couldn't move at all. This kind of thing... reminds me sometimes.”

Kogasa left it at that, but even in the darkness, her meaning was clear. There was an anxious quaver beneath her voice, and the statement ended in a needy question mark.

Sekibanki hesitated, but not so much from reluctance as indecision. What the hell were you supposed to _do_ in situations like this? This past week or so was probably the most time she'd spent in the company of other people in ages. She liked to think that she wasn't antisocial or anything. She could make polite company with the woman who bagged her groceries or when she bumped into other youkai in the village. Neither of those were very good practice for consoling a lightly traumatized umbrella.

She only had Kogasa's own example to go off of, really. Sekibanki reached over, patting across the floor until she found Kogasa's body. Moving slowly, giving Kogasa time to protest if she wanted to, she eased herself closer. She looped one arm and pulled her into a loose embrace. “... this is about as much as I can offer.”

Kogasa sat in silence for a few seconds. “... it does help. Um. People don't really hug lost umbrellas that often, so this is... definitely different from that.”

Sekibanki gave the slightest nod. She'd never heard Kogasa _embarrassed_ before. Not like this, actually slowing down and taking the time to choose her words carefully. At least they were both into uncharted territory, she supposed.

“I know it sounds really selfish, with everything that's happened, but, um.” Kogasa paused, summoning her courage. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet, barely even rising above the volume of her breath. “I'm kind of scared.”

Sekibanki could only answer with awkward silence. There were probably Things that one was supposed to say in situations like this. _Everything will be okay_ or _I promise that we'll make it out of this_. She read quite a bit, and she was almost certain that those were the kinds of things that a heroine would say in a book, at least.

Not that she could convince herself that she was much of a heroine. When rokurokubi showed up in books, it was to be the villain. It was a role she'd played once or twice, herself.

But...

She'd faced down youkai hunters and angry mobs more than she cared to remember. Some times, she'd barely managed to escape. Skillful or not, those were the odds—she needed to get away every single time, but the youkai hunters only needed to get successful once. If it came down to it, she liked to think that she could face her end with stoic resignation. 

Thinking of the same thing happening to Kogasa, though, made her jaw clench until it ached. She could convince herself that she'd earned her doom, one way or another. She couldn't fool herself into thinking that Kogasa had.

Part of Sekibanki cursed her own weakness. This wasn't the way things were supposed to go, ever. She worked alone. Revealing herself to others, let alone getting involved with them, never led to anything good.

She pushed that part aside and took a deep breath to steady her voice. Far more confidently than she felt, she said, “I'll keep you safe. Try to get some sleep, okay?”

* * *

There were no card games the next morning.

The few guards who were still around the place—Mamizou had a theory that they'd been offered some pretty choice selections of meat in exchange for their service—had brought breakfast, surprisingly. The group ate in silence, and they sat in silence. Kogasa made a few halfhearted attempts to start conversation, but none of them went anywhere. Kosuzu barely even looked up.

Nobody needed to say it, but Kogasa was pretty sure that they were all thinking of the same thing anyway: Kilometers away in the village, Seija's banquet was creeping closer and closer.

Minutes silently blended together into hours. The sun slipped past the room's tiny window and disappeared above it.

And, movement caught her eye.

Kogasa looked up, and found that she hadn't imagined it. Sitting in the room's tiny window was... something. It was backlit by the light outside, leaving her squinting at a silhouette. But, it was fuzzy and moving, which narrowed down the options a bit.

Kogasa glanced side to side, but nobody else seemed to be paying much attention to the window. Silently, she rose from the floor and stepped over to it, rising up on her tiptoes to get a better look.

The shadow stepped forward. It was a mouse. A tiny, grey mouse. Perhaps more notably, there was a piece of paper clenched in its mouth.

“Oh. … hi? Did Nazrin send you here?”

The mouse crept up to the edge of the window, then down the wall, carefully picking handholds out of the rough material. After it had gone half a meter, Kogasa thought to raise her hands, offering her cupped palms to it. “Is that letter for us...?”

“There are only so many people in Gensokyo who send their mail through mice,” Sekibanki said, stepping up alongside her.

The mouse didn't answer, but dropped down to land in her palm. Little pinprick claws poked at her flesh as it turned to face her, then reared up and offered her the paper.

“Thank you very much.” With her free hand, Kogasa lightly plucked the paper from its mouth. Pressing it against the wall, she unrolled it, flattening it out with two fingertips. In crisp, tiny handwriting, it said:

_Help is on the way. Be ready to leave._

_Please feed the deliveryman if possible._

“Oh!” Kogasa hurried over to the plates they'd piled in the corner after breakfast. Kneeling down, she shuffled through them until she found a few grains of rice, then offered them up on a fingertip. The mouse was apparently accustomed to this ritual. It— _he_ , she guessed from Nazrin's use of 'deliveryman'—took the rice without a second thought, plucking them up in little paws and gulping them down.

“Er, kiddo?” Mamizou said. “Something in that letter you'd like to share with the rest of the class?”

“It's from Nazrin!” Kogasa looked up, leaving the mouse to his well-earned meal. “They're coming to rescue us!”

* * *

_Be ready to leave,_ the note had said, but there weren't exactly a lot of preparations they could make.

Sekibanki felt like it would have been better if there were. It would have been nice to have something to keep their minds off of the situation. _Anything_ to do other than wait in anxious silence, staring at the window and watching for their rescuers.

Their rescuers didn't come through the window, though. They came through the front door.

Muffled, distant shouting was the first sign that something was amiss. It was soon followed by a concussive _thump_ that rattled the door and left the cell bars humming to themselves for a few seconds afterward.

“A-ah,” Kosuzu said, staring in the direction of the sound. “I hope whoever did that is on our side...”

They could only sit and listen as the fighting moved across the building, sometimes with pauses of a minute or two. A long, pronounced sizzling noise was followed by a shuddering groan that came from every direction at once, like the structure itself had been wounded. One of the periods of silence was terminated by a chorus of confused shouting.

As the fighting came closer, Sekibanki finally got the reassurance that the good guys were winning. It was the only way to explain the still-distant and muffled, but recognizable, sound of Nue laughing.

Finally, far-off projectile exchanges transitioned into nearby footsteps.

Nazrin rounded the corner and took a few steps down the hallway before pausing in realization. “Oh,” she said to herself, then turned to shout back over her shoulder. “I found them!”

“Hi!” Kogasa said, leaning against the bars. “We got your letter!”

“Mice might not be fast, but they're reliable,” Nazrin said. “Do you still have him?”

“I do!” Kogasa offered the mouse up through the bars.

“Ladies!” Nue's voice came down the hall before her footsteps were even audible. When she came into view, she had one arm raised in the air triumphantly, and the other wrapped around Shou's back. “Your mighty heroines have arrived!” She paused after a few steps, frowning as she surveyed the cell's occupants. “... they didn't have Mamizou after all?”

“I'm over here.” To underscore her statement, Mamizou headbutted the wall of her carrier with enough force to send it rocking side to side. “Tricky little assholes locked me up good and tight.”

Nue sputtered. “A pet carrier?!”

“Undignified, ain't it?”

Nue made a sort of gagging sound, deep in her throat. A few sputters escaped her lips, and it became obvious that she was strangling back laughter. It didn't last for long. Soon, she was hunched over, cackling into the air and slapping her knee. “A pet carrier!” she wheezed. “That's great!”

“Just get me outta here...”

“I'll, er, let Nue do the honors,” Shou said, with a voice so dignified that her true meaning of _'I'll let her deal with the results of taunting a bakedanuki herself'_ was almost masked. She stepped forward, leaving Nue behind, and only now was it obvious that she'd been leaning on Nue for support. She walked with a hobble, and kept one hand clasped over her side, the jeweled pagoda resting in the other.

“Oh...” Kogasa's eyes followed her. “Are you hurt?”

“A bit. I gave the guards out front a chance to surrender,” Shou said, with a bashful smile. “They shot me instead of answering.”

“Don't worry about her. It's nothing new,” Nazrin said, flipping through a ring of keys. “You wouldn't think an avatar of war would be afraid of starting fights, and yet here we are.”

“Even youkai like this deserve a chance to redeem themselves.” Shou's tone was gentle, but somehow still managed to be both reproachful reminder and lecture.

“After that first batch, they learned pretty quick, though! Almost felt bad for shooting at them while they ran away. I mean, _almost_.” Nue straightened up from opening Mamizou's carrier, then glanced over to the other cell. “Who's the kid?”

Sekibanki followed her gaze. “Oh.”

Kosuzu was sort of frozen in place, staring at the horde of youkai newcomers in something between discomfort and outright fear. One of Nue's weird wing-tentacles drifted a bit too close to the bar, and she shied back from it. “... These are our friends,” Sekibanki said. “They won't hurt you.”

“Hey, that's no fun,” Nue said. “At least give me a chance to scare her a bit first.”

Sekibanki corrected herself: “These are our friends, _except_ for Nue.”

A cloud of odorless smoke and a light breeze announced that Mamizou had shapeshifted back to her normal form. When it cleared, she was stretching expansively, bent over backward to crack her back. “Ahhh. That's a treat. Can't stretch properly in a little box like that.” Straightening up, she adjusted her spectacles thoughtfully. “Don't suppose you dashin' heroic types had much of a plan beyond this, did you?”

“It was all we could do just to find this place,” Nazrin said. “We didn't have a lot of time to consider what comes next.”

“They've told me everything you found about the amanojaku's, er... feast,” Shou said. Her distaste for the entire topic was apparent. “It starts in barely an hour, so we don't have much time to stop it. Do you three have any ideas?”

“I haven't had much to do except think, myself,” Mamizou said. “I don't figure that a Bishamonten who went and got herself perforated is going to be much used to us, though. Nue, why don't you take Shou and the kid and head somewhere safe until this all blows over?”

“Miss Futatsuiwa,” Shou said, gently but insistently. “I know I'm hurt, but I can still fight.”

“I'm not sure this is going to be a fighting kinda job. We need to get inside and stop the whole thing without causin' a hundred-youkai battle royale in the middle of the village. If it comes down to punishing the bad guys after the fact, we've done missed our chance.”

“Oh! Oh!” Kogasa said. “What about me and Sekibanki? What do we do?”

“It oughta be obvious, shouldn't it? We've got a feast to stop and a human sage to rescue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The card game they're playing earlier in the chapter is meant to be Hachi-Hachi, a game with hanafuda that's inclined toward gambling. There are only a handful of English-language resources on the rules, so if I screwed anything up, I did my best.


	11. Chapter 11

Marisa made a habit of leaving Reimu out of her investigations.

It wasn't anything personal. Just, they had their own ways of doing things. Marisa could wander around the village without drawing too much notice, ask people probing questions about youkai without setting off a village-wide panic attack. She gathered evidence. She _studied_. It was a lot of legwork, but it was the kind of thing that a mere human needed to do to keep the title of Gensokyo's number two incident resolver.

Reimu... didn't really do that kind of thing. Even now, after knowing her for a decade, Marisa found her methods kind of inscrutable. Sure, she'd have a look around and ask a few questions, but nothing more. She rarely even acted _interested_. But more often than not, after days of investigation and analyzing half a dozen clues, Marisa would close in on the perp and find Reimu already there, two steps ahead and guided by nothing but luck and intuition.

Investigation was a hard job for people who couldn't _intuit_ their way through things. Involving Reimu would probably just annoy her.

The fact that the village occasionally paid a handsome reward for youkai exterminations helped too.

Still. Reimu had her own way of doing things. And so, approaching the Hakurei Shrine from the air, Marisa wasn't very surprised to find that Reimu was already walking down the path toward the village.

“Yo!” Marisa called, swooping low on her broom. “Heading into town?”

“The weather's pretty nice,” Reimu replied, cheerfully neutral. “It would be a waste to stay home all day.”

“Uh-huh.” Marisa nailed a landing next to her, noting with pride that she landed almost exactly even with Reimu, to the centimeter. “Mind if I chat while you walk?”

“It isn't like I'm doing anything else.”

“Mmhm.” Marisa swung her broom back over her shoulder and stretched, both gathering her thoughts and trying to convince Reimu that she wasn't concerned in the slightest. “So, y'know, I've been thinking. Everything about that night Kosuzu disappeared seems pretty suspicious, right?”

“I guess it was,” Reimu admitted. “The gods won't tell me anything except that she's alive.”

“I mean, like. I could almost believe that Sekibanki would snap and do that kinda thing, but sayin' Kogasa was in on it is kinda hard to believe, isn't it?”

“Mmhm.”

“Right. And something's up with Akyuu, too. Laid off most of her servants barely a week and a half ago. Not really what you'd expect from somebody who's planning a feast, is it?”

“Not really, I guess.” Reimu yawned and gave an expansive shrug. “I don't know what you think you can do about it, though. Half the village is already mad about the stampede at her speech. Even if you had a really good case, if you just went and attacked her, you'd probably cause a riot.”

“I mean, it's Akyuu, anyway. Half the times it feels like a stiff wind would knock her out. You'd wanna be really sure you knew what you were doin' before you picked a fight.” Marisa went quiet. They walked in silence for a few minutes, long enough for her to raise the next thought on her mind without it seeming like a continuation of the same topic. “Speakin' of which, though, I guess the feast is today, huh?”

“Oh, is it? I hadn't realized.”

“Yeah, heard somebody talking about it in the village this morning.” That was a complete lie. Marisa had memorized the date days ago. She'd spent two evenings scrutinizing the announcement posters for clues. “I was thinking I might drop by for a bit, if you wanted to tag along.”

“Mmh.” Reimu sounded artfully inconvenienced by the idea. “I guess there might be free food.”

“And it's the Hieda family, so it's gotta be really fancy stuff too, right? Might even be booze.”

“If there are a hundred youkai there, it won't last long.”

“Of course... if Akyuu _is_ up to something, this is probably it, right? Getting a hundred youkai together in one place isn't easy. Almost feels like it'd be best to just break in and start shootin', doesn't it?”

“It would be pretty convenient having them all in one place. A lot less work than tracking them down individually.”

“As expected of the Hakurei shrine maiden, huh? Ready to take on a hundred youkai without even hesitatin'.”

“It isn't a hundred,” Reimu said. “There are two of us. That would be fifty apiece.”

“More like sixty-forty. You lost our last duel.”

“That was a fluke.”

“Uh-huh. … besides, it's all theoretical anyway, right? On account of we're only goin' for the free booze and stuff, I mean.”

“Obviously,” Reimu said, stifling a thin smile.

* * *

There was a line to get in the front door gate of the Hieda manor.

The humans who'd been invited to the feast were some of the richest in the village, and they'd dressed appropriately for the occasion. They looked like the kind of people one would _expect_ at a banquet hosted by the most powerful human family in Gensokyo, wearing clothes that probably cost more than everything Sekibanki owned. Several of them were accompanied by servants, looking conspicuously plain among all the opulence.

Nobody else, though, looked even half as conspicuous as Mamizou, leading a rokurokubi and a karakasa obake into place at the back of the line.

The man in front of them glanced back. His eyes widened with disbelief as soon as he got a look at them. He quickly turned back around, but not quickly enough to avoid being noticed.

“Eh?” Mamizou said. “Something the matter?”

The man kept his eyes pointed decidedly forward, like he was afraid to look back and confirm what he'd seen. “I hadn't meant to stare,” he said, in a voice that was both bashfully apologetic and rude all at once. “I had only thought that this was the line for _humans_.”

“Oh, for the feast? Old news. Haven't you heard? Whole thing got canceled.” Mamizou pulled her pipe out and gave it a waggle. “Mind if I have a smoke?”

“I—they couldn't have canceled the feast. Word would have been sent out. They have guards escorting guests in.”

“Oh, yeah, they're letting people in. Just...” Mamizou trailed off, puffing into her pipe until she'd coaxed a fire in the bowl. After a long drag, she exhaled a cloud of smoke and continued. “Way I hear it, all the fish they brought in went bad, but they're still giving the leftovers away to those who'll eat 'em. A bit of ripe seafood never hurt anyone, right girls?”

Sekibanki stared back at her. Kogasa was a little quicker on the uptake. “Oh, um, right! … yum!”

The man sputtered, his cheeks reddening so much that it was visible even from behind. “The Hieda are a noble family. There's no way they'd have people line up to eat _spoiled fish_.”

“Oh?” Mamizou raised her eyebrows, looking very genuinely surprised. “Drat. Don't tell me this is the line for entrails. I could swear they said that was around back.”

He finally turned around to stare back at her, desperately searching her expression for the slightest hint that she was kidding. Apparently, he didn't manage to find one. After a few seconds, he slipped out of line, muttering to himself and tugging a retainer along. A few other guests trailed along behind them.

“That was cute,” Sekibanki said, “but we should probably be trying not to draw any attention to ourselves. Kogasa and I are still all over wanted posters.”

“Ah, cut an old lady some slack. I've been locked up for near a week and a half. Least you can do is let me have a little fun.” Mamizou took a few more puffs from her pipe and blew them slowly outward, sending wispy clouds of smoke snaking through the air. “Besides, with what we know about this party, I probably did them a favor by scaring them off.”

Sekibanki couldn't argue that part, at least. “Speaking of which, what are we going to do once we're inside? We need a plan.”

“It isn't a half-bad question. Interrupting the party's one thing, but doing it without kicking off the human buffet early is another. Any ideas?”

“Oh!” Kogasa said. “Maybe we could convince _all_ of the humans that the food is spoiled? Then they wouldn't have any reason to stay!”

“Ain't a bad plan, but I'm not sure if I have that much thespian in me.” Mamizou looked to Sekibanki. “How about you?”

Sekibanki took her time to consider it. “... a fire,” she said. “If we can start a fire, they'll have to evacuate the place. That should buy us some time, at least.”

“Better. It'd be nice to snag all of Seija's troublemakers while they're all nice n' gathered like this, but that's a bit too much fighting for anyone with common sense. Tell you what—we'll get inside and take a look around. If we don't come up with a better plan by time the thing looks to be starting, we'll weigh our options.”

“We have to get Akyuu back too!” Kogasa said. “She might be in trouble!”

“One thing at a time.”

The group in front of them stepped through the gate, and the three advanced to the front of the line.

A very tiny gate guard smiled up at them.

“Good Evening Ladies May I See Your Invitations!” Rumia said, so stiffly that Sekibanki was surprised to see that she wasn't reading off of a card. She'd dressed up—or been _made_ to dress up, more likely—for the occasion, in a yukata covered in pictures of fish. To an observer who didn't know any better, she looked like a perfectly normal child.

“Ah, well now, that's the thing.” Mamizou stepped forward, making it clear that she'd be the one doing the talking in this situation. “Us three, we're youkai, not humans.”

“Oh... then why aren't you inside?”

“Runnin' late. We were running some pretty important errands.” Mamizou leaned in conspiratorially. “The kind of stuff that came all the way from the top, if you catch my drift.”

Rumia stared at her, smiling and blank. “Nope,” she said, after a few seconds. “I don't know what that means!”

“... the point is, we're part of this whole thing. Mind if we head on in?”

“Oh! In that case, you just need to recite the secret passphrase!”

“Passphrase?”

“Right. The one to prove that you're part of the club!” Rumia said pleasantly, not seeming to harbor the slightest trace of actual suspicion toward them.

“Right... well.” Mamizou spoke more slowly now, choosing her words carefully. “The thing is, nobody's had much time to—“

“Rumia.” The voice wasn't that loud, and the speaker was obscured by the wall, but it was a voice that they were all familiar with by this point—Seija. Sekibanki's joints locked up in indecision, and then she grabbed Kogasa's arm, tugging her aside and hiding against the wall. Mamizou showed the slightest hint of surprise until, in a quickly-dispersing puff of smoke, she was suddenly disguised as a human, complete with blonde, not brown, hair.

Rumia squinted up at her. “... was your hair like that before...?”

A figure stepped out around the corner. From most angles, it was hard to identify Seija—she was wearing that same hood again, and her robe was just baggy enough to conceal her wiry form. Still, she was obviously in a hurry. A simple glance to the side would have spotted Sekibanki and Kogasa pressed to the wall, but she was focused on Rumia. “Come inside. I have a job for you.”

“Okay! … only...” Rumia glanced back at the line. “I was guarding the gate, on account of you asked me to?”

“Don't need it anymore. Anybody who wants in can come in, at this point.”

“Oh. Okay!” Rumia beamed up at Mamizou and recited, “Welcome To the Summit For A Peaceful Gensokyo Ma'am And Please Enjoy Your Meal!”

“Sure thing, kiddo. You take care, okay?”

At the sound of her voice, Seija shot Mamizou a brief, suspicious glance. Then, she turned and stalked off, dragging Rumia behind her.

“Well?” Mamizou looked over to the two, as Sekibanki reluctantly pried herself off of the wall. “Time to get to work, girls.”

* * *

Kogasa had never been inside a _manor_ before.

Not that it was much different from other human houses she'd been inside. Just... bigger, really. She was pleased to note that this one had an umbrella stand next to the shoe rack, though—two red, one white, and a green bamboo umbrella, and one modern-looking one made out of metal and plastic. She lingered, inspecting this foreign interloper, until Mamizou called back and urged her to hurry up.

The manor's many corridors had signs posted to herd guests toward the banquet. They mostly weren't necessary. A long, thin procession of humans led through the house, all headed toward a single destination. They could hear the banquet before they even saw the door. The sound of almost two hundred people packed into a single room had a way of making itself known.

They stepped through into the banquet hall.

It was one of the biggest crowds that Kogasa had ever seen, and crammed into a single room, it felt twice as big. So much noise and movement left her overwhelmed for a few seconds, just hurrying along in Mamizou's wake. Even in the middle of the crowd, though, some details quickly became apparent. One was that the humans and youkai weren't really intermingling. The humans were all clustered on the near side of the room, and rather openly keeping their eyes on the youkai. The youkai, too, were sticking to their own side of the room and having muttered conversation. Half of them kept shooting anxious glances toward the human side.

The place had been convincingly decorated for the occasion. Five long tables sat in the center of the room, with flower arrangements heaped at their centers and dining arrangements already laid out. Name cards directed the guests to sit in alternating human-youkai pairs, but barely a dozen scattered people had sat down yet. And...

“There isn't really any food...” she mused aloud.

“That's an amanojaku for you,” Mamizou called back. “Won't even give them a good last meal.”

The last few humans hurried out of their way, and the three were able to emerge into the relatively unpopulated center of the room. Mamizou beelined toward the end of one table, where there was nobody else to overhear them. She turned around, getting a better look at the place. After a few seconds, she smirked. “Oh. Guess that's why the youkai're acting like somebody's stomping over their grave.”

“Huh?”

“Look there.”

Mamizou pointed to the human side of the room.

There, walking together around the edge of the room, were Reimu and Marisa. They walked in their own little insulated bubble. The other humans had enough sense to stay out of their way.

“Oh!” Kogasa slapped a hand over her mouth to prevent any other surprised gasps, then parted her fingers to squeak out, “We should hide!”

“Hmm.” Mamizou reached up toward where her pipe _would_ have been, only to come away disappointed when she found that she'd extinguished it when they came inside. “Maybe not. I doubt that amanojaku invited them, so if they're here, it probably means something else is up.”

“Great,” Sekibanki said. “Now we'll just get exterminated along with everybody else.”

“We shouldn't stick out here anyway. We still haven't found Akyuu, after all. And I've got a feeling that wherever we find her, we'll find Seija too.” Mamizou turned back toward the far side to the room, the youkai-heavy side. “Let's keep moving. The way I figure it, the Child of Miare's chambers are probably the best bet for finding her.”

“You know your way around this place?” Sekibanki asked.

“Eh, here and there. Had some literature discussion with the young mistress of the house one time. … snuck in disguised as a servant just to take the lay of the land a few other times. You never know when you'll need that kind of thing.”

“I'm sure.”

“I don't want to hear any lip about it from the girl who hangs around the village all day pretending to be human.” Mamizou picked her way through the crowd of youkai, slipping between people or elbowing them out of the way using some arcane selection process known only to her.

Kogasa had been afraid that some of the youkai might recognize them and try to stop them. Instead, their attention was focused practically everywhere else. Particularly, on the far side of the room. She glanced back, trying to see what was so interesting back there.

One final group of humans had just finished walking through the doorway. Behind them, two of the youkai who'd dressed up a bit more for the occasion—the guards, she supposed—were moving into place to block access to the door.

Closer to the center of the room, a guard closed another door, then stood imposingly in front of it.

“Um...!” Kogasa blurted out. “I think they're about to start!”

Mamizou shot a thoughtful glance back to see for herself. “Guess they decided they're in a hurry.” They'd already been approaching the crowd of youkai. Now, she dove into it, fighting her way through with her elbows. “Excuse me! Coming through. 'scuse me. Didn't get your foot out of the way in time, so you earned that.”

By the time the door came into sight, the guards were already pushing it closed. Mamizou lunged forward and slapped a hand on the edge, straining to keep it in place. “One second, young lady. Forgot my purse outside.”

The guard stared back at her. “Er, ma'am, you know that the feast is about to start, right?” She glanced around to make sure no humans were nearby, then added, “Y'know? The _feast_?”

“Not a problem. Save us some leftovers, alright? I'll bring back a doggy bag.”

The youkai opened her mouth to protest, but Mamizou shot her such a convincing smile that she hesitated.

A second was all it took. The three of them slipped through the door and back into the mansion's corridors.

* * *

“Dammit,” Marisa said, as the two stepped forward into the center of the room. “Somebody just left.”

“Let them go,” Reimu said. “If it was a youkai, we can chase them down later.”

She'd already been producing a stack of ofuda from her sleeve as she spoke. Now, she fanned a few in her fingers, pulled them back, and flung her arm wide, tossing them out across the room. They smacked against the walls in a scattershot spray, spread out in all directions. A shiver ran through the air, followed by a series of firm _clunk_ s, as every door locked itself in a very terminal-sounding sort of way.

Marisa gave a low, appreciative whistle. Cheaty Hakurei sealing techniques. Some day she was gonna learn those things, and nothing would ever stand in her way again.

For now, she raised the mini-hakkero overhead. Energy glistened above it, resolving into a tiny point of light. It trembled, glowing brighter as she compressed it hotter and hotter, then exploded. A sharp, nearly deafening _snap_ whipped across the room with enough force to knock off hats. Not much of an attack, but a heck of an attention-getting device.

“So, hey!” Marisa shouted. Nearly a hundred youkai stared back, while a few particularly insightful ones started beating on the doors. “Afternoon! Nice of everyone to join us. Except, me n' Reimu are pretty curious to know what's actually goin' on here. So, if anybody wants to fess up before the exterminating starts, we'd be pretty grateful. Oh, and...” She glanced back over her shoulder, toward the crowd of terrified humans behind them. “You guys just sit tight back there, okay? This might get kinda messy.”

* * *

It was never easy for Seija to relax and enjoy a victory.

Today—the feast, the whole Gensokyo Carnivore Club—was the culmination of a long, long project. It had been months of hard work. More to the point, it had been months of _peace_. She'd wheedled and negotiated with dozens of youkai to get the group together in the first place. On more occasions than she could count, she'd bitten her tongue rather than berate one of them to the extent she felt that they so richly deserved. Even now, seeing it all come together, she couldn't feel much but minor anticipation for what came next.

Seija thrived on strife, and strife had been in short supply lately.

There were signs that was changing, though. Earlier, two guards had come running up from the front gate to report that the shrine maiden and the black-white witch had both forced their way in. It wasn't the kind of thing that boded well. Normally, she might let herself feel hopeful about the odds of a hundred youkai vs. two humans, but she hadn't exactly recruited the most dangerous youkai around. Half of them could barely even fight beyond the level needed to take down a lone, disoriented human.

It had been enough to convince her to bring Rumia inside, and send the order to start the feast as soon as the last humans were in the room. And now...

Shouting came from the direction of the feast hall, and Seija cocked her head, listening. It didn't let up, but became a dull, distant roar, as more and more voices joined the chorus.

“Huh,” Rumia said, staring at the door. “They're eating really loud, huh?”

“Yeah, I'm sure that's it,” Seija replied, so dryly sarcastic that it wrapped back around to earnestness. She pushed herself to standing and walked over to open the room's single closet. Inside, bound at the wrists and gagged with her own sash, she'd stashed Hieda no Akyuu. The _real_ one.

“Looks like I was right to pack you after all,” Seija said. She grabbed Akyuu by the wrists and hefted her up over her shoulder, only straining her wiry muscles a bit in the process. She rolled her shoulders to get Akyuu settled into place, then crossed the room, opening a door that led out into the gardens.

She hadn't taken a single step before the door on the other end of the room, leading into the rest of the manor, flew open. Yaeka came stumbling in, half breathless and too panicked to even pretend to be Akyuu. “The shrine maiden!” she gasped. “She's attacking. We need to get out of here before she comes this way.”

“Uh-huh.” Seija glanced over to Rumia. “You remember what to do, right?”

“Stay Here And Fight Anybody Who Tries To Chase Miss Seija!” Rumia recited.

“Wait, wait!” Yaeka rushed into the middle of the room. “You can't just drop everything and run! Everyone's locked in there with her! We have to do something!”

“You're half-right. _Me_ , I'm getting out of here. But if you want to help them out? Go for it. One more youkai might slow her down a bit.”

Now, Seija kept her eyes on Yaeka's face, studying it, drinking in every little tic as she slowly realized what was happening here. “I... but they're our allies, you _promised_ me that—“

Yaeka kept going, babbling her way through attempts to rationalize the situation. Seija lingered for just a moment, letting herself bask in it before she stoked those fires further. “Allies? You think I care about _any_ of you?” A dry chuckle. “That's cute. Just real cute.”

“But you—!”

“Don't owe anybody anything.” Seija turned around, and shot a rude gesture back over her shoulder for good measure. “You have fun, though.”

Seija shut the door behind herself and took off running.

A freshly-betrayed ally, an innocent human slung over her shoulder, and self-righteous youkai-hunters gunning for her.

She hated to admit it, but it felt damn good to be a proper villain again.

* * *

They'd barely gotten three steps outside of the feast hall before something had slapped into the door behind them. An explosion had rattled the walls. It was followed by a chorus of shouts, which was only growing louder with each passing seconds.

It was all the more reason to keep moving. Mamizou led them hurriedly down the many corridors of the Hieda manor, stopping now and then to peek through a doorway or down a long hall. They took a sharp turn, heading toward what Sekibanki dimly remembered as the Child of Miare's quarters. This deep into the manor, everything felt surreal. Their surroundings were as abandoned and still as they'd been the day that Sekibanki had infiltrated the place, but in the background, they could hear the constant, muffled roar of the mass brawl going on in the feast hall.

“So, um.” Kogasa shot a worried direction back toward the way they'd come. “This is good, right...? If they beat up all the youkai before they eat any humans, there won't be any reason for anybody to get angry after this, will there?”

“Probably,” Sekibanki said. “I don't think Seija planned on somebody stopping it this early.”

“I'd still sleep a lot easier if she didn't escape with one of the most important people in the village.” Mamizou packed her pipe and re-lit it again as they walked, leaving smoke trailing behind them down the hallway. She paused at another intersection, then chose one of the halls and led them down it. “Think I hear somebody this way...”

Sekibanki could hear it, too, as they got closer. The frantic sounds of somebody trying to do half a dozen things at once, with muffled voices underlying it. As they got closer, she could just make out the words.

“—slow those humans down. If we barricade the doors from the outside, they'll have to fight every single youkai before they can get out.”

“Got it! … huuuh, but won't that trap all the youkai too?”

“They're already trapped in there! Only thing we can do is turn it around on the humans.”

Mamizou's hand settled onto the door and she shot a glance back, silently urging the two of them to get ready. She pushed the door open.

The room's purpose was immediately apparent, between the ancient scrolls lining one wall and the more homey living area on the other side—it was Akyuu's personal quarters. Inside, Rumia looked up in bewilderment, still holding a paper where she'd been very seriously writing down her orders. The room's other occupant had been dictating, but now trailed off.

Undisguised, Yaeka barely looked any more imposing than she did as Akyuu. Short, and with fluffy hair and thick, fuzzy eyebrows, she looked more like the personification of a teddy bear than anything dangerous. She whipped her head around to glare at the door, only to freeze in surprise as she saw who was leading the group.

“Mamizou...!” Yaeka squealed, taking a step back.

Mamizou didn't dignify her with an immediate reply. She exhaled slowly, a smoke cloud roiling out of her nose to fill the room. “That's my name. Don't suppose you have anything to say for yourself, do you?”

“How did you get out?! Why are you—?!”

“Y'know, lockin' me in a cage is one thing, but working for an amanojaku, that's just unforgivable.”

“You, you should know me better than that, come on! I was _using_ Seija. Once youkai were on top again, I was going to ditch her!”

“Uh-huh. And that's why you're the one left here holdin' the bag, and she's nowhere to be seen, right?”

Yaeka reddened, but didn't respond. Mamizou sighed. “Thought I'd taught you to be a bit brighter than all this, but you never were one for making good decisions. Would y'like to point us to that amanojaku friend of yours before I start beating some sense into you, or are you dead set on makin' me work for it?”

Yaeka's flush deepened even further. Rather than respond, she leapt forward. Her body exploded outward into the form of a tiger in midair. A leg as thick as a young tree knocked the desk over and sent papers flying. A paw the size of a dinner plate slashed down to smash Mamizou.

Except Mamizou was now standing half a meter to the side, and still in motion. She whipped her sake jug around on the end of its cord, smashing it against the side of Yaeka's tiger head, and managed to catch it on the rebound to take a sip.

Rumia hopped away from the fight, dropping her pen and paper in the process. Sekibanki latched onto her shoulder, giving it a squeeze and meeting her eyes. “Do you know where Seija went?”

Rumia stared blankly up at her, then spread her arms into an awkward-looking fighting stance. “I'm supposed to fight anybody who tries chasing Miss Seija,” she said uncertainly.

“And I'm not—“ The Mamizou vs. Yaeka brawl drifted closer, and Sekibanki had to pause mid-sentence, sidestepping a toppling desk. “I'm not going to ask twice.” Sekibanki's eyes flared with a light so bright that it washed out the features of the girl's face. Her head rose up, looming over Rumia atop a neck almost a meter long.

Rumia tried to hold her ground, but a terrified squeak escaped her lips. “Miss Seija ran out the door,” she said.

Kogasa took a few steps toward it, then paused. “Um, Miss Mamizou, do you need help, or...?”

“Wouldn't be much good if I couldn't take this little ingrate.” Mamizou paused to hop over another attack, and jabbed the burning tip of her pipe into Yaeka's eye in retaliation. “You two go ahead. I'll catch up when I'm done here.”


	12. Chapter 12

Akyuu might have been a sickly young scholar, but she could struggle with the best of them.

“Settle down,” Seija said, and let the tips of her claws graze against the girl's flesh in warning. “You're no good to me if I drop you.”

It was quite a drop, too. As soon as she'd gotten clear of the Hieda manor courtyard, she'd leapt to the rooftops, letting her leap from building to building with only the occasional boost of flight. It wasn't quite as fast as flying outright, but it made her a less obvious target. Let her avoid the crowded streets below, too. She wasn't against making a scene, but there was a time and a place for it, and it was decidedly _not_ in the middle of an escape attempt.

She leapt across another alley. As soon as she landed, Akyuu burst into a new round of squirming, thrashing her unbound legs in the air. Seija tightened her grip and started getting up a run for the next jump.

The shine from earlier was quickly wearing off. This whole thing—hauling a terrified young maiden on her shoulder, barking threats and commands to her—was a nice change of pace from plotting and playing nice, but it was still _beneath her_. As wickedness went, it was a fast food: a quick, easy thrill without much long-term satisfaction.

The real question was whether or not to ditch the kid. She made a good hostage, but the further Seija got from the feast, the less valuable a hostage was. If she could make it out of the village, speed was more important. As long as she got away, odds were that she could avoid the shrine maiden for months... again. Back to the wilderness, laying low during the day and spending the nights roaming the far side of Youkai Mountain to find wayward human victims. But in the meantime...

Seija gritted her teeth as she nailed another landing. “I'd start praying for the shrine maiden to show up, if I were you,” Seija said. “I get out of here in one piece, I think I'll dump you in a ditch and keep moving. Normally I'd have a little fun first, maybe flay your skin off and hang it from the main gate, but I'm in a rush. Nothing personal.”

Akyuu responded with muffled squeals and renewed thrashing. Seija chuckled to herself and sped up for another leap.

* * *

Sekibanki ran.

The wall around the Hieda manor was tall and imposing, but it wasn't a real obstacle for a youkai. She leapt into the air, and after a burst of flight, landed on the outside. A moment later, Kogasa's geta thudded against the road behind her. Neither of them let the landing slow them down much. As she moved, Sekibanki's eyes drifted from the street, to the rooftops, to the sky, searching for any sign of Seija.

 _This is crazy_ , a part of her realized. A youkai, hunting another youkai in the human village. Being on the hunting side only made it even more bizarre. It was ridiculous. Reimu and Marisa had attacked the banquet and defused the whole thing. The two had to know what was going on. Sekibanki's innocence was secured. There was nothing stopping her from turning around and going home right now. In fifteen minutes, she could be sipping tea and heating water for a bath.

It had been days since she'd had a good, hot bath.

Instead, here she was, playing heroine. Getting _involved_. The exact sort of thing she'd chastised Kogasa for mere days earlier.

“There!” Kogasa shouted.

Sekibanki had a lead of a few meters, so Kogasa's pointing finger didn't give her much guidance. It didn't take her long to spot it, anyway. Almost a hundred meters ahead of them, Seija was moving across the roof of a house, managing to move at a jogging pace despite having Akyuu slung over a shoulder.

“I see her,” Sekibanki shouted back. “How do we handle this?”

“Oh, um… I thought that maybe we should go up there and save Akyuu?”

… intentional or not, Kogasa had a point. Seija was already fleeing and ahead of them. The didn't have a lot of options.

“I'm going!” Sekibanki shouted back, and with her next step, took flight.

She didn't fly very often, apart from short bursts when she was out scaring humans. Even at night, flying around was a good way to get spotted and identified. Now, she folded her arms back and willed out every ounce of acceleration that she could get. Her cape flapped behind her, the wind tugging on her collar. Out in the open like this, there was no hope that Seija hadn't spotted her. She still kept at it, squinting against the wind, until she was ahead of Seija.

She didn't dare to slow down, either. She landed with enough force to shake the building's frame and make the roofing tiles rattle in protest. Her cape billowed from the sudden stop. She raised an arm, spreading it wide.

This heroism business was new to her, but it would be a cold day in hell before she gave up on making an intimidating entrance.

“Drop the girl.”

Seija frantically backpedaled to a stop, just in time for Kogasa to land behind her, stumbling a few meters before thrusting her umbrella out. “Give Akyuu back!”

A renewed round of squealing came from Akyuu, and Seija mostly ignored it. “You two got out, huh?” she asked, looking between them. “Figures. I won't bother asking how.”

“That's right! We came here to stop you!” Kogasa shouted.

“What's in it for you? The shrine maiden ruined my feast back there, as I hear it. This doesn't have anything to do with you anymore. Leave,” Seija growled. “More importantly, get out of my way.”

Sekibanki advanced a step closer. “Put the girl down and we will.”

“Yeah!” Kogasa repeated, quickly mirroring the action.

“You two are getting to be a real pain in my neck. You want the human back?” Seija slipped Akyuu down from her shoulder, holding her bent over an arm. “... go get her.”

Sekibanki realized where this was going a moment too late. As casually as if she were tossing an apple to somebody, Seija chucked Akyuu up into the air.

And, an uneasy feeling swelled in Sekibanki's stomach. Soon, far, far less subtle results made themselves obvious. The village below rotated and pulled away. One instant, Sekibanki's feet were standing on solid tile. The next, the roof slid out from beneath her. Wind whipped through her hair and her sense of direction spun dizzyingly, as the entire world rotated _around_ the three of them. As gravity started tugging in the decisively wrong direction, Sekibanki flailed in the air, asserting her flight to stabilize herself before turning to accept the new definition of Up.

The roof was overhead now, ten meters away. The human village dangled above her like a ceiling. She could still see people walking in distant streets, but locally, gravity had other ideas. A few loose tiles rattled on the roof above her, then dropped off, falling into the sky beneath them.

Akyuu let out a muffled squeal as she, too, tumbled down into the endless blue abyss.

“Akyuu!” Kogasa shouted. Her stunned gaze met Sekibanki's, searching for permission. Sekibanki nodded, and Kogasa twisted around to dive after Akyuu, her arms folded by her sides.

“Not going to go after her too?” Seija asked. “Guess she isn't even that good of a distraction.”

“You should already know that you're defeated,” Sekibanki said. “I—“

Seija met her gaze and flicked two clawed finger tips in a short come-hither gesture. In response, lights flashed into existence behind Sekibanki. She didn't even get a chance to move before the attack slammed into her back, points of sharp pain burrowing into her flesh. The rest of the projectiles flew past without consequence, a fan of red-and-blue bullets that fizzled away into sparks as they pattered against the rooftop.

“Y'know, they spent a week hunting me like an animal. No spell card rules, no limits. You want a fight? I'm the only youkai around who remembers what they look like.”

Seija lunged forward as she spoke, sweeping her hands in a grandiose gesture. In response, spears of light flared into existence to her sides, closing in around Sekibanki like a pair of claws. This time, Sekibanki was ready. She dropped down in the air, dipping beneath the level of the attack, and quickly threw out two heads. Her vision swam as she adjusted to the multiple viewpoints, but this close, managing some extras wasn't too bad.

Red streamers of light traced out the heads' motions as they spread out around Seija. Brilliant, tiny stars shot from their eyes, slicing through the air and meeting right where Seija was hovering... or, at least, where she'd been a second before dodging.

Sekibanki didn't let up. She advanced toward Seija and swiped an arm through the air. A dozen crimson lasers fanned out, then curved in toward Seija like they were hungry for her blood. Her heads harried Seija from every direction, spiraling through the air and never letting her relax for an instant. Sekibanki thrust forward with every attack, driving Seija back and wearing her down. One attack struck home, piercing into Seija's shoulder with enough to make her half-spin in place. Another hit her chest, driving the wind out of her and nearly making her drop from the air.

Seija gave a noise somewhere between a growl and a chuckle. “Not bad. You're getting worked up. It's personal, huh?” She jerked her hand in a forceful motion, and the directions spun around Sekibanki again, leaving her tumbling and directionless. “Don't have time to stay and enjoy it, though.”

Now that Sekibanki was off-balance, Seija actually struck. She clawed at the air, and streams of crimson energy trailed from her fingertips. Sekibanki was still too disoriented to dodge, and they lashed down against her body like whips, sizzling where they touched her skin and charring her clothes. Before she could recover, the world spun again, and another torrent of energy burst up to strike her. Soon, her perspective was thrashing around maddeningly, a beached fish's view of the world, as Seija juggled her in the air with attack after attack.

The final blow sent her flying, no longer even sure which direction passed as Up right now. She scrambled to get her bearings and stop herself, but she was too slow. With a sickening _thud_ , she came crashing down on the packed dirt of the street below, bouncing a few meters before she barely clawed herself to a stop.

A few startled shouts announced that there were some humans around, and they'd very much noticed her entrance.

Before any of them could approach, Kogasa landed right after her, Akyuu in her arms. “Sekibanki! Are you okay!”

A single laser from behind—not anywhere near Seija, but things like 'direction' barely seemed to matter when she was involved—smashed into Kogasa's back, and she stumbled forward. She barely managed to control her fall enough to drop Akyuu semi-gently, rather than hurling her across the street.

As soon as Kogasa was on the ground, Seija landed atop her. She stomped down on Kogasa's back to keep her there.

“This is fun and everything, but I need to get moving. Got a hostage to ditch, after all.” Seija raised a single fingertip, glimmering with light, like an entire bonfire compressed onto a pinhead. It drifted indecisively above Kogasa's prone form. “Which do you think you'll miss more—a leg or an arm?”

“I-I really don't...!” Kogasa struggled beneath her, and was silenced by another shove from the foot.

Sekibanki struggled to push herself from the ground, but the fall had left her pretty battered. She caught a glimpse of Seija's expression, though: a wide, _manic_ grin, as crazed as when she'd begged to be punched. In that kind of mood, she just might be serious. And she was right on top of Kogasa. Even if Sekibanki attacked her now, her attack would still hit. Unless...

Sekibanki focused her attention on one of her floating heads, pulling it into a dive straight toward Seija, the bow in her hair shaking in the wind. Seija looked up. The spark on her fingertip had stoked itself into a lethal glare, ready to discharge into Kogasa's helpless body in mere instants.

Sekibanki didn't dare to slow down. She opened her mouth wide, the wind whistling around her teeth. And, as she rammed into her target, she chomped down on Seija's finger.

Seija grunted in surprise. The finger convulsed. The attack exploded into Sekibanki's mouth like a sun going supernova.

Sekibanki's world went white.

* * *

Kogasa had been scrunched down, preparing to make a last-ditch attempt to escape.

Now, flaky white dust was raining down around her. She could almost mistake it for snow, if it weren't still glowing with heat around the edges. It might have still been pretty in its own way, if she hadn't known it was the ashes of Sekibanki's head.

“Sekibanki!” Kogasa wailed. She strained to move closer to her, but Seija's foot was still rooting her in place. Sekibanki was laying on the road a few meters away, and while she was definitely still alive, she just-as-definitely wasn't enjoying herself. She was curled up on the ground, wheezing in pain and clutching her forehead.

Seija stared incredulously down at her fingertip, then barked out a single ragged laugh. “Hah! Haha! I can't believe it! Even better than I expected!” She pulled her foot from Kogasa's back, then swung it back in for a sharp kick in the ribs. “Now get out of here. Both of you. You're slowing me down. … take the kid, too. No use for her anymore.”

Kogasa pushed herself up from the ground, one arm patting for her umbrella. On one hand, in strictly pragmatic terms, they'd won. On the other hand…

“Y-you blew up her head!”

“Yeah.”

“You're… evil! You're _super_ evil!”

Seija raised an eyebrow and glanced back, a moment too late. Kogasa leapt to her feet, swinging her umbrella overhead. As it came crashing down, it blasted out an attack, an entire wall of rainbow bullets exploding forward like a bursting dam. There wasn't much _dodging_ in the face of an attack like that. They smashed into Seija like a fire hose, knocking her off her feet. She tumbled across the street, bouncing a few times before friction finally won out. The leftover bullets clattered and bounced around her, like a shower of pebbles.

“I said I'm leaving!” Seija sputtered, pushing herself to her feet. “You won! Are you crazy?!”

Not that Kogasa was really listening. Her eyes burned with tears and her fingers tightened their grip on her umbrella. Kogasa wasn't normally known for her bravery. She was only mediocre at dueling. In the opinion of her few friends, if a complete stranger were to walk up and punch her in the face, she'd probably apologize for whatever she'd done to deserve it and break down crying.

But right now, perhaps for the first time in her life, she was _angry_.

“Y-you hurt my friends!” Kogasa shouted, swinging her umbrella and summoning another attack. Pastel blue bullets rained down from the heavens, as thick as a blizzard and as hard as hail. It started as a low rattle of pellets occasionally ricocheting off a tile, and had soon become a roar that shook the world around them like an earthquake.

Seija frantically twisted the dimensions around again, sending the bullets tumbling indecisively through the air. She barely got a moment's reprieve before Kogasa lunged forward, thrusting the tip of her umbrella into her stomach and knocking her to her butt again. “You're mean to people for no reason!”

Kogasa pulled her umbrella back again, energy glimmering around it and building for another attack. “And you're a jerk—!”

Mid-swing, Seija, swiped a finger at her. Kogasa's viewpoint twisted around, Down moving to Up and back again. She flailed her limbs for support, and just barely managed to stop herself before she landed face-first on the ground.

By the time she did, Seija was already running down the street. “Stay down if you know what's good for you!” she shouted back, half-warning and half-taunt.

“N-no! Get back here!” Kogasa struggled to her feet again and fired off a quick, desperate attack, but it went wide, streaking off into the sky.

Seija shot her a rude gesture back over her shoulder and sped up. She tensed up to leap into the air, and—

_BWOOM_

It was like a bolt of lightning. A yellow ray of light split the world in two, stretching from a nearby rooftop to the ground below. It disappeared as fast as it had appeared, leaving afterimages etched in Kogasa's eyes and a rush of hot air washing over her. Where it had impacted, barely a meter in front of Seija, a glittering pile of gems now sat in a scorched crater.

Seija skidded to a halt, kicking up a cloud of dust in the process.

A figure rose up past the edge of the rooftop. It was impossible to make out any details at first—it was eclipsed by a brilliant, awe-inspiring light, the rising sun on a winter morning. As Kogasa's eyes adjusted, she could just barely make out the particulars. Shou stood above them, regal and tall, with the Jeweled Pagoda held in both hands. The pagoda itself was almost impossible to look at, glaring with a golden light that illuminated the entire street.

“Would you like to surrender?” Shou stepped forward to the edge of the roof, looking down on Seija. “I think there's been enough suffering today.”

“You think you know a _thing_ about suffering, you sanctimonious—“

_BWOOM_

This time, Kogasa was in position to see the attack. The pagoda flared like an exploding star. The beam of light caught Seija right in the chest, sending her flying backward. When she came to a rest, after a few bounces, smoke was wafting up from her.

“Please surrender.” Shou hopped down from the roof, breaking her fall with a brief burst of flight, and stepped closer. “I'd rather not hurt you any more than I have to.”

A dry, wheezing noise came from Seija, and Kogasa slowly realized that it was a laugh. “Like you aren't enjoying this,” she rasped. One arm sort of twitched, and she started prying herself up from the floor. “And _I'd_ rather die than give you the satisfac—“

_BWOOM_

“… I _will_ do it, though,” Shou finished, with a hint of a smile.

Seija landed face-down. She wasn't in great condition, but it took a lot more than that to kill a youkai. A shiver of effort ran through her body, and she made the barest attempt to stand up. After straining for a few seconds, she collapsed with a defeated groan.

Shou still didn't waste much time. She closed the distance between the two and pinned Seija down with the butt of her spear. “It might be a good idea to reflect on the lessons you learned here today. Even someone as stubborn as you has the potential to shed your worldly desires.”

“The way I remember it...” Nazrin hopped down from a nearby roof, arriving with significantly less fanfare. “... the last time that Byakuren tried to rehabilitate an amanojaku, the disciples had a betting pool, and you had fifteen hundred yen riding on her failure.”

“I said she has the _potential_. I'm not going to get my hopes up, though.”

Laying a few meters away, Akyuu gave a muffled groan, frantically wiggling her body for attention. Shou's eyes drifted toward her. “Oh. Nazrin, please help the others.”

“Of course.”

“Y-you think this means anything?!” Seija wheezed. She tried pushing herself up with trembling arms, but failed. She collapsed again, with a noise somewhere between a hyena's laugh and a gasp of effort. “Just kill me. It'd be better than listening to you lecture for—“

A blow with the spear's butt—this time to the back of her head—silenced Seija with a yelp of pain.

“You're in luck, then. It will cause less trouble for the temple if I let the shrine maiden handle you. After whatever she has in store, you might wish you'd gone with the lecture instead.” Shou turned to Kogasa. “Are you okay? Sorry. I should have come sooner, but it took me half an hour to convince Nazrin.”

Bent over and tending to Akyuu, Nazrin muttered a retort. Kogasa didn't hear it, though—almost literally. Those pagoda attacks had left her ears lightly ringing, and streaks of light were going to be flashing in her vision for hours. The repeated inversions had left her head spinning. It took a few seconds to gather her wits enough to respond. “Oh, um, I'm fine, but...” She gasped. “Sekibanki!”

* * *

Sekibanki was in the rare position, even among youkai, of knowing what it felt like to have one's head blown up.

During the Miracle Mallet incident, when cursed energy had coursed across Gensokyo and stirred up her bloodthirst, it was the kind of thing she'd managed to shrug off a few times, even though she'd felt like hell the next day. Now, without quite as much... motivation, she wasn't as resilient. She felt like she'd been kicked in the face, rolled down a hill, and had her mouth scrubbed out with sand, all while suffering the world's worst hangover. She felt like somebody had scrambled her brain and hooked the bits back together all wrong, then set it on fire for the hell of it.

She felt like her head had been blown up, because that was what had happened and there _weren't many similes that did that justice._

At least she had a spare.

Now, she'd barely managed to push herself up to sitting mostly upright, clutching her surviving extra head in her lap, when Kogasa came rushing over. “Sekibanki!” she shouted, skidding to slow herself down before she plowed into a hug. “Are you okay?!”

“I'll live,” Sekibanki half-groaned.

“Th-that was… scary, but really great too! I mean. Blocking that attack, I mean! Um. … you probably saved my life, actually...” Big, fat tears wobbled in the corners of Kogasa's eyes, then spilled out to flood down her cheeks. She tightened the hug, pressing her cheek in against Sekibanki's shoulder. “That's probably the nicest thing anyone's every done for me! Getting shot just to save an umbrella!”

Kogasa trailed off into a long bout of sniffling and whimpering. Sekibanki stared at her like she was a bizarre new breed of wild animal, then looped an arm around her, easing herself into the hug. “… I do have extras,” she said, self-conscious.

Kogasa wail-moaned something in response. Nazrin approached them from the side, looking first surprised, then slightly annoyed, by the sight in front of her. “We're going to deliver the amanojaku and see to this girl's safety,” she said, then raised her voice to be audible over Kogasa. “Will you be okay?”

Sekibanki didn't want to interrupt Kogasa's cathartic bawl, so she gave a brief nod in response.

“Good.” Nazrin turned to leave, then hesitated to add, “… I'll keep your things in the tomb for a few days. Come and get them at your convenience.”

She shot a glance back before stepping away again, this time for good. It was probably Nazrin's way of admitting that she cared just a little, Sekibanki supposed. Just a little.

Kogasa, on the other hand, cared quite a bit. It took about five minutes for her tears to slow down, and another few before she took a deep breath, then sighed it out with a smile. “A-ah, sorry. I'm, um, not very used to this kind of thing...”

“Neither am I,” Sekibanki said. She glanced aside. This was the point where normally, she'd find an awkward, annoyed-sounding excuse to get Kogasa off her lap. Go home. Start soaking this cloak, because between the charring and the umbrella snot, it was going to need some heavy scrubbing. Take a long bath. Cook dinner and start making plans to replace the door that Marisa had blasted down, and make it twice as thick this time.

“… but.” Sekibanki had to pause to stop her voice from cracking and convince herself that there were no tears in her eyes. “Er. If you'd like to… try figuring things out together...”


	13. Epilogue

Humans were a short-lived race, but for some things, they had a very long memory.

Sekibanki could feel the gazes on her as she walked down the street. It had been two months since the last wanted poster with her face on it had been ripped down. It turned out that those were a mere formality compared to the brutal efficiency of the village's rumor mill. Everybody knew she was a youkai. Even the passing farmers' eyes followed her warily, and some of them lived so far out that their fellow humans didn't entirely trust _them_.

Everybody knew she was a youkai, but nothing had come of it yet.

She still wasn't sure what to make of that. Had somebody spread word about her part in rescuing Akyuu? Had they at least revealed that she was innocent? Was Gensokyo just _different_ like that?

It was hard to say, but at least her house was still standing.

She brushed past one last group of gawkers and slipped through the door into Suzunaan.

The shop's interior was a nice reprieve. The curtains in the doorway kept out both the cool autumn air _and_ the voices. It was very quiet, actually. The librarian's desk near the front stood unoccupied, with only an open ledger to suggest that somebody had been standing there earlier. Sekibanki approached it and looked around, but nobody was hidden in the shop's shelves, either.

“… hello?”

“Oh! Welcome!” Kosuzu's voice called from somewhere in the back. “One second, please!”

A long, wooden groan followed, and then a few heavy, mechanical clunks. A few seconds later, Kosuzu stepped out through the doorway at the back of the shop. “Oh! Miss Sekibanki!” she said, wiping her inky hands on the already heavily-blotched smock she was wearing. “Good afternoon. I haven't seen you in a while.”

“Good afternoon,” Sekibanki said. After a pause, she added, “… did I interrupt you?” She'd been trying to be slightly more… personable, lately. If nothing else, it seemed like it would lower her odds of having a house burnt down, in the long term.

“I'm printing, but I really needed the break anyway.” Kosuzu half-slumped down against her desk for support, resting an elbow on it. “Ever since we got back, Akyuu's kept me really busy printing pamphlets and stuff warning people how to spot disguised youkai. It's really good money, but it's so boring...”

“… I see.” Sekibanki had been _trying_ to be more personable. That didn't mean she was necessarily any good at it.

“Sorry. I shouldn't complain to you about this kind of stuff. You're still a customer, after all. Can I help you find a book?”

“Oh, er. No, actually. I was wondering if your shop had some crates that I could borrow. I could pay you, of course.”

“Oh, if you're just borrowing them, you don't need to pay! We have lots, actually. Some of them are even from the outside world. Did you need any particular kind?”

“Er. I didn't know that there were different kinds.”

“Well, what kind of things are you carrying? Are they really heavy, or…?”

“Kind of a variety. I'm packing things up for a move.”

“Moving...?” Kosuzu tilted her head thoughtfully as she considered that. “Oh! Miss Sekibanki, you aren't moving away from the village, are you?!”

“No, er—“

“I've tried to tell the customers that even though you're a youkai, you're pretty nice, but some of them won't listen, and—“

Sekibanki raised a hand to placate Kosuzu. “I'm not the one moving,” she said. As matter-of-factly as she could, she added, “Kogasa is moving in with me.”

“Ohhhh. Maybe an assortment, then? Some of them aren't very good for carrying smaller stuff, but—“ A sentence and a half later, the implications caught up with Kosuzu. “O-oh,” she stammered. “Oh.”

Sekibanki cleared her throat to usher the conversation along. “An assortment will be fine. Thank you.”

* * *

A foot thudded against the door. One, two, three kicks, and the door flew wide open. A pile of umbrellas wobbled in, with Nue's legs struggling to steady them. “More umbrellas!” Nue shouted past her load. “Where do you want 'em?”

“Oh!” Kogasa had been organizing her smithing tools—Sekibanki probably wouldn't want her making swords in the middle of the house, but they had to go _somewhere_ for now—but now dropped them and hurried over to guide Nue across the cottage, to where a thin rope hung across a corner of the room. “Over here! I think this line is for drying clothes, but it would make a really good place to hang umbrellas too, don't you think?”

“Yeah, sure.” Nue crouched down and dumped the umbrellas against the wall, sending them sliding down into a pile. “What do you even need these for?”

“Hmm… It isn't really about needing them. I help them out! I'll patch them up and then find something to do with them!”

“Yeah, 'cept, the last time we dueled, you chucked a bunch of them at me.”

“That's helping them out too! Being used in a fight is still a way to find a purpose as a tool!” Kogasa paused, and let a little defeat creep into her voice. “… um, well, and I can only find so many uses for umbrellas, so I have to get really creative sometimes.”

“I guess that's... definitely creative, yep.”

Kogasa crouched down to sort through the pile of umbrellas, hanging them from the clothes line one by one. Most of them didn't have a curved handle, so she had to tie them up. None of these umbrellas were anywhere near old enough to become tsukumogami in their own right, but they still had some spirit to them, weak and quiet though it might be. She looked each one over, trying to get a sense for its personality and hanging ones that felt compatible together.

She'd gotten through five or six by the time that a loud, wooden clatter came from outside. “I'm back,” Sekibanki said, stepping through the doorway. “And I got some crates, but—“

Sekibanki stopped mid-sentence, staring at the dangling umbrellas. “… ah.”

“There are a lot of them, huh?” Kogasa said proudly, stepping aside to show off her collection. Or, part of it, at least. Nue had already hauled over two other loads of abandoned tools, and there was at least one more waiting back at Kogasa's cottage. “I thought it would be good to set it up near the door. Every time it rains, you'll be able to use a different umbrella!”

“I'll… definitely be the driest person in Gensokyo. Thank you.”

“And just wait until you see how many we put in the closet,” Nue said, grinning as she twisted the knife.

“I'll look forward to it. … anyway, I got crates from Suzunaan. You can go get another load.”

“Eh, that last one left me pretty sore. I think I'll take a break.” Nue walked over to Sekibanki's bed, in the far corner of the room, and leapt forward onto it. She landed on her belly, bouncing in place, with her weird, weird wings giving a few wriggles above her. “Oh, hey. Nice and comfy.”

“ _Please_ don't jump on my bed.”

“I don't see you stopping me.” Nue gave a theatrical yawn and rolled over, then raised her head, as if in sudden realization. “Ohhh, I get it.” She grinned. “Now that Kogasa's here, you don't want the springs to get all worn out before you get the chance to do it yourself, huh?”

Sekibanki tugged on her collar. “That isn't any of your business.”

“Huh...?” Kogasa glanced between the two of them. “Were _we_ going to jump on the bed later? It does sound pretty fun, now that you mention it!”

“I… really don't think that was what she was implying.”

“Oh. What was it, then…?”

Sekibanki looked to Nue. Nue, for once in her life, stayed quiet.

Reluctantly, Sekibanki explained.

Kogasa considered this. “Oh.” She frowned thoughtfully. “… if that's all it takes to wear out the springs, the steel probably isn't very good... I can make some better ones once I'm settled in!”

“I'll, er, keep it in mind.” Sekibanki sighed, but slipped over to give Kogasa a quick peck on the cheek. “For now, let's focus on moving. … please.”

* * *

Sometime during the unpacking, half of Sekibanki's pillows had ended up on the floor, piled against the wall. It was the kind of situation she'd have to tidy up, sooner or later. For now, she flopped down on them with a groan.

The move was done… more or less. There were still crates piled on the kitchen table and waiting for their contents to be put away. Kogasa's house still had quite a bit of furniture that they'd need to do something with. Between the two of them, they had enough clothes that they'd probably need to track down another wardrobe. But, all the important bits, the little pieces that made the difference between Kogasa _staying_ here and Kogasa _living_ here, were present.

Her cottage couldn't quite take it. It had been well-furnished to begin with, and now it felt filled to bursting. Fourteen umbrellas, in a festival's worth of colors and patterns, were hanging all over the walls. Blacksmithing tools had been unceremoniously heaped by the kitchen, rolls of oil paper were leaning in the hallway, and books of ghost stories were stacked ten high in front of her changing screen. It would probably take a week to put all of it away.

At least the added clutter did a pretty good job at masking the scorch marks on her older belongings. There was that.

“Tada!” Without warning, Kogasa flopped down on top of her, sending a few pillows tumbling across the floor. “I finished putting away all of my clothes. That's enough for now, right?”

“I think we've both done more than enough for one day.” As she spoke, Sekibanki raised her arms to lightly wrap around Kogasa. Even after almost three months of this, it was still proving to be a learning experience. But, she had always prided herself on her skill and craftsmanship, and she wasn't about to let this field be any different. She threw in a little squeeze just to be sure.

“Mmhm...” Kogasa let out a long, relaxed sigh and gave her a few kisses on the neck in return. “Oh! Did Kosuzu want any money for the crates?”

“I'm supposed to take them back when we're done, but they were free, otherwise.”

“That was really nice of her! Oh! Maybe I can fix them up before we take them back. Polish them and stuff, you know? To say thanks.”

“I'm not sure she cares whether her crates are shiny or not.”

“To say thanks to the crates, then!”

“That sounds like a lot of work. And right now…” Sekibanki yawned. “I'm not sure if I'm going to manage to get to bed before I fall asleep, let alone do something like that.”

“Maybe tomorrow, then,” Kogasa mumbled. She rubbed her cheek in against Sekibanki's neck, finding the perfect comfortable resting spot on her shoulder… then stiffened up. Her whole body jerked upright with enough force to send another pillow or two sliding to the floor. She was grinning ear to ear. “I just thought of something else we should do tomorrow!”

“… what's that?”

“Scaring humans! I'm starting to get kind of hungry, and it will be like a couple thing! We haven't done it together since that one night.”

“And look how well that turned out for us.”

“Oh… does that mean you don't want to?”

Sekibanki knew what to expect now. Kogasa charging forward ten seconds too early out of enthusiasm. Kogasa apologizing to people that they _actually_ scared, because she was too nice to let it slide. Kogasa getting spotted and spoiling their hiding spots half the time—few things in Gensokyo stood out as much as a purple umbrella.

“Mmh, not at all,” Sekibanki said, slipping deeper into the pillow pile. “Pay attention this time. You might learn something.”


End file.
